Outcast
by Star-Struck Inu
Summary: But do we have enough bread making Vikings? was what Hiccup asked. A story about what would have happened if Hiccup never took dragon training. Exiled to a near-by island with only dragons for company? Odin help him, but he's always got Toothless...
1. Chapter 1

Is that… it is! Another fan fiction to drive me to drink Pepsi and struggle to get out each chapter!

This story is inspired by tsuanyue (also my beta for this story) who brought me a generous gift of plot bunny! So happy Easter, and if don't celebrate that, happy Sunday!

My BETA IS AMAZING. LOVE HER!

So, this story is about what would happen if Hiccup _didn't _go into dragon training! Remember that part where Hiccup asked if they had enough bread-making Vikings? Yeah, that part of the movie? This is where Hiccup begs not to be put into training after meeting Toothless and his father has no choice but to send his son to lock-down (really to exile) on an island near-by. With only dragons for company, Hiccup's life is about to get very crazy.

**Really IMPORTANT: **My beta brought up a valid point when writing this, we are both unsure if it is entirely legal to quote the movie, so some sentences have been changed and because of the this first chapter might be a little awkward. As the disclaimer says though I don't own it, and I'm only using the quotes to give everyone an idea of where we are so far in the story.

**Warnings**/**rating**: Heavy angst, I'm going to go with middle Teens for this story (like 14 and up). Spoilers for those that have not seen the movie, LIKE MAJOR SPOILERS

**Disclaimer**: As said before in other stories, I own nothing! I do not own the movie, How To Train Your Dragon by DreamWorks, or the book by Cressida Cowell. (But if I did…)

**Notes:** Some of the dialogue from the original scene in the movie might be cut out simply due to the length, but it probably won't be too noticeable… that's about it. If you like it then review. If you don't like it, well sorry.

Listening to for inspiration: All for Love- by Brian Adams, Rod Stewart, and Sting!

Outcast

The red haired boy knew he was a disgrace to his father's good name. It ate away like molten steel at his inside's, painful and burning. Hiccup was too young to really have much of an idea of how to correct his terrible reputation, other than to become a Viking and kill dragons. That was what was pounded into the heads of every young Viking from birth, and Odin have mercy upon your soul if you didn't conform into a proper trainee, unlike Hiccup.

It was getting worse, Hiccup could feel it. The villager's terrible glares whenever he left his house. The lanky boy decided he didn't even want to _leave_ the house anymore. Gobber could always find another apprentice. Hiccup knew the only reason he'd been taken on as the apprentice for the gnarled man was because of his father being the village chief.

Currently, the boy was walking through a sparse forest. Pine trees were plentiful, but none grew closely together; kind of like the Vikings that lived on this island. The young boy knew he had gotten that dragon. He could feel it all the way thorough his body, tingling like how cold hands felt after they started warming up.

So far every place he'd checked had come up empty, "The gods hate me!" he lamented as he stepped onto a rock. "Some people lose their knife in the bog, but not me. I manage to lose an entire_dragon?_" Disgust colored his voice as he closed his eyes; straining to keep his angry tears from falling. He swatted vindictively at a low-hanging branch, and the vengeful things flicked him back in the face. Was it too late to go back home and curl up under a fur, never to come out again?

The depressed boy stopped as he viewed the tree connected to that evil branch and noticed it was destroyed. His eyes followed the path of broken trees and scorched earth. Excitement and hope bubbled up in the thin boy's neck. Could it be?

He rushed over and scrambled up a hill of displaced dirt only to gasp and duck back down, his finger curling tightly into the cool soil. Hiccup struggled to control his breathing as he slowly peeked back up to look at the fallen beast. Black scales darker than the darkest night, with forearms and forelegs, and what looked like an incredible wingspan for medium sized dragon.

Hiccup moved forward automatically, his desire to finally bring back proof to his father that he didn't mess up and the he really did hit a Night Fury! "I did it!" he proclaimed joyfully, "I did it… I did it! This changes everything. Yes! I have brought down this mighty beast!"

The cheerful boy made his mistake then, something most Viking children already knew, never look into the eyes of what you're about to kill. Too late, emerald irises met toxic-green eyes with black slit-pupils. The breath left the wiry boy at the sight of their beauty but he shook it off, "I'm going to cut out your heart dragon. I'm going to cut out your heart and take it to my father!" his voice rose slightly as adrenaline began to pump through him, "I'm a Viking." He murmured.

"I'm a Viking!" he yelled, not sure if he was trying to convince his own doubtful heart and shaky nerves or the dragon that had closed its eyes in acceptance of its own helplessness and pain.

Hiccup raised the knife high above his head, his arm's nerves spring loaded, the slightest noise would have startled him into bringing it down; but there was silence and nothing but the pounding of his own heart. So loud, oh why so loud? Was this not what he was supposed do? He was a Viking, was it really that he was just a coward?

The depression overwhelmed and he closed his eyes in disgrace. His graceful hands still wrapped around the knife lowered to rest on his head. 'Why? Why can't I do even this right?'

The shock began to set in. His failure at being a Viking even in his mind, "I did this…" The words sounded flat and full of remorse.

Hiccup turned, intent to leave this scene, to forget all about this Night Fury and hide in his room until he died from starvation, but… He turned his head and gazed at the still-tied up dragon. It wasn't fair for him to leave the dragon like that.

Before his mind could process it, he was already sawing through the second rope and reaching for the third. With a snap the dragon sprang free and pounced in a half-second to grab Hiccup by the throat. The beast was enraged, his growl rumbling thorough Hiccup's entire body. The Viking boy was both praying to be released while at the same time hoping it would kill him anyway.

Time froze as they stared at one another, a pitiful human and an injured dragon. The black beast seemed to make up his mind because he opened his mouth and let out a ferocious screeching roar that felt like it would peel the skin from the boy's face; then it dashed away. It tried to fly every now and again, but for some unknown reason it would ultimately crash into a random tree or boulder.

The Viking boy sat stunned and concussed for a minute before climbing shakily to his feet and staggering a short distance before fainting straight away.

______________A few hours later______________

Hiccup had managed to make it back to his home without fainting into a random ditch or patch of grass. His knees were still weak from the experience, but he was slowly regaining his mobility. He paused momentarily outside the door of his house, one slender hand resting on the doorknob; with a deep breath he shoved inside. The boy had a single minded goal and that was to make it past his dad -violently poking the embers of the hearth- and go straight to his room. Once in room, stay for weeks until someone complains of the stench. The thin youth sidled around his father and was running on all fours up the stairs when he heard, "Hiccup?"

The boy winced at his name, "Y-yes dad?" He back down off the stairs and stared up into the face of his father.

"Dad… I need to talk to you."

The large Viking clasped his hands together, "I need to talk to you too son."

Hiccup felt his stomach clench slightly, "Dad, I don't want to fight dragons!"

"Son, it's time you learned to fight dragons."

The both of them spoke at the same time, and neither had been paying much attention until they both _thought _they heard something they didn't want to hear.

Stoick shifted slightly, "You go first Hiccup."

Hiccup took a deep breath, "No, you go first Dad."

Stoick smiled slightly, "You get your wish. You start dragon training tomorrow."

Hiccup sucked in a breath and hugged himself; suddenly he wasn't getting enough air. "You know dad, I've been thinking about this whole thing," the boy's voice tried to sound enticing and cheerful, "We've got a surplus of dragon fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread making Vikings?! Or small home repair…."

Stoick's heart clenched. Oh dear little boy, he always made it so hard for the leader of the tribe. "Son, I want you to listen to me, if you do not go through your dragon training you will not be considered a Viking, and I can't have a non-Viking heir."

The pain of those words was equally terrible to both the father and son. Hiccup was Stoick's only son, and Stoick… he was Hiccup's protector and rock. "You mean you'd disown me because I can't be a Viking?" Hiccup asked incredulously.

Stoick flinched, before snapping back, "You're the one that just said he can't fight dragons. Do you wish for me to send you to your death?"

Hiccup looked as though he'd been struck, "At least I'd die with my own name! With your last name! Where would I go in exile and how would I survive? You and the warriors are leaving tonight, when are you going to exile me? Now?"

The heart-broken father stared at his panting and pale -well, more paler than usual- son. Nothing broke a father's heart into a million pieces like a child who fails, when you want nothing more than for them to succeed.

Stoick shook his bearded head, "No, I must go to the dragon's island immediately, and I can't prepare for such a ceremony in an hour."

Hiccup wasn't looking at the older man's face, his emerald irises glowing from the light of the fire as he struggled not to cry. "Look at me Hiccup."

Since birth, the young boy had been taught, trained even, to obey that voice, and it worked. His eyes shot up to meet his father's. Stoick awkwardly put out a hand, looking as though he were going to brush his fingers down the red strands, before deciding to rest upon a narrow shoulder. "I would never," The leader said with a growl, "send you somewhere dangerous. There is an island, about five or six miles off of this one. Nothing lives there except rabbits and sheep and such." The man paused eyes thoughtful, "Maybe I could just place you there under observation, and tell the others that you're being purged of your bad luck by fasting and living on your own…"

The Viking leader trailed off, lost in his own plans; but when Hiccup tried to twist away he was grabbed, not ungently, by his elbow. "Hiccup, you are to tell no one about this, and you will stay within the limits of the village. If you can do that, when I get back I will not have to exile you!"

Hiccup felt a flutter of hope fly up into his heart. He would be able to keep his name -terrible as it was-? He could still call this awkward fighting monster his father?

"Deal son?"

"Deal dad."

The father patted his son awkwardly one last time and turned away shrugging his pack onto a shoulder and looking back at Hiccup with the saddest look the boy had ever seen his father make. Then the bulky Viking turned away and said, "I'll be back in a few weeks, probably."

And then he was gone out the door leaving Hiccup to curl up near the fire and sniffle to himself. Why was he such a screw up? Why couldn't he just say, "yeah, sign me of for dragon training"? He could just hang in the back, look like he knew what he was doing, someone else gets to kill the Nightmare at the end, and he would be a full-fledged Viking.

He palmed his face. And a bread making Viking? Where on Odin's green Earth did he ever think up that thought? No wonder his father was so quick to give up and say he'd have to be disowned. Hiccup honestly wouldn't want himself for a son either. Heaving a sigh, the petite boy banked the fire and went upstairs to his bed; curling up miserably on it.

Despite his trouble, his father was correct in saying that his attention span was that of a sparrow. There Hiccup was, teetering on the thin edge of being disowned, and he started to think about the Night Fury. It wasn't intentional, but it had been one of the most amazing moments -the first of many- in his life. The red-headed boy turned onto his stomach and clutched at the thin neck pillow before reaching a hand underneath his bed for his hidden fluffy one.

That's right he'd made a pillow, and it was a damned good one. Soft but firm enough to keep his head off the hard mattress, it was bliss. The small Viking boy only used it sometimes when he was feeling his lowest. He was never sure when he father might walk in to have another one of those "father and son" talks he seemed so fond of. Soon he was comfortable and warm underneath several supple furs, one blanket with the fur-side down and hide sewn on top with the fur facing out. His father -he was not going to start crying- had gotten it for him, when the medicine elder said the small boy would take chill more easily than the others, another trouble the boy burdened the elder man with. Burrowing down into the warmth, Hiccup imagined himself far away from the cold, unforgiving island of Berk.

____________Day Break____________

Hiccup groaned lowly as he shifted in his bed, his face burying itself into the comfy pillow. He didn't want to wake up and face the daylight that seemed very anxious to see him. He lied peacefully, slowly waking back up and becoming more aware of his surroundings. The red haired boy knew he would have nothing to do today. Dragon training was starting for his peers: Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, and _Astrid_. Hiccup knew he would be the luckiest boy to ever roam Berk if he could win her attention.

Still, there was no reason for the youth to lie in bed all day. He may not have anything to do, but Gobber would probably think that Hiccup would shut himself up in the cottage, which meant he could go back to see the dragon. A tingle of apprehension and delicious adrenaline shot up Hiccup's spine; the desire to see the fallen beast increasing two-fold. Hiccup rolled agilely out of bed and hopped wildly. The floor was icy cold to his bare feet.

After managing to pull on his leggings without tripping into anything and struggling with his long-sleeved tunic, Hiccup grabbed his fishing pole and shoved his -now covered- feet into his boots.

The morning was crisp, and it wasn't snowing or hailing either. A perfect day for fishing. As the gangly boy settled himself along one of the docks his line already cast, he waited patiently while enjoying the warmth of the sun provided. He didn't have to wait long, his line nearly jerking from his lax hands with the force of the tug from the struggling fish. -Njörðr(1), even the fish were stronger than he was!-

The cod eventually lost its battle, and Hiccup nodded in satisfaction at a job well done for once. He grabbed his pole and walked back toward his cottage to put his pole away, shocking the few villagers still left that he'd manage to catch a fish and no one was bleeding from stray hooks.

'That'll show them I can do _some_ things right,' he thought proudly. Leaving the fishing gear behind at his house; Hiccup stealthily snuck into the forest, his body on autopilot. 'Will he eat the fish? I wonder if dragons like cod… what if he decides to eat me instead?" A slightly panicked look entered the kind facial features of the boy, "Maybe Hlin(2) will be with me today and it'll all work out fine?" Even to his own ears is sounded like he was asking a question. He had never been exactly "favored" by the God's. In fact half the time Hiccup felt that they just like to pick on him and mess him up for their own entertainment. The boy sighed and continued to pray, 'Today, please just be with me today!"

As he approached the valley his ears heard the muted roars of the Night Fury, still in a wide-eyed rage and attempting to escape the natural prison, but when he reached a small crack in the valley walls all sound died.

Holding his breath the boy pressed flat against the wall, using it as a shield, and tossed the fish as far in as he could throw it, -not really all that far-. Holding his breath, the small boy listened for any sound of the monstrous dragon approaching, but there was nothing?

Peering out from around the rock wall, Hiccup took one hesitate step in, and then another. He looked around as he retrieved the fish by its gills; not noticing the crouched black mass ready to pounce upon him, not until he'd turned and the creature was leaping down. Hiccup in sudden fear thrust the fish out as far as he could stretch his arm, a peace offering of sorts. For a moment the dragon was so overcome by hunger that he sidled up slowly, reached out, and then leapt back snarling.

Hiccup felt him mouth go dry and tried to think of a way, _any_ way, to keep the dragon from deciding that he was a hostile presence. 'My knife!'

Hiccup moved his vest carefully aside to display the knife, the black dragons slit-pupil eyes narrowed. When the boy actually touched the cold metal, the dragon hissed. "No, no, no! It's okay!" He took the knife from the loop and tossed on the ground.

The dragon snorted and made a movement with his head toward the water. Hiccup didn't think it strange that he knew what the scaly creature was asking. Using the tip of his boot, Hiccup maneuvered the blade onto the top of his foot and kicked it into the water.

At the resounding, "plip," the great beast seemed quizzical, sitting back to observe what it must have thought to be an incredibly strange little Viking, tossing away his only weapon.

The black devil had not been worried even when the man-child had his "knife" and now the insignificant thing was shyly -and fearfully- holding out a fish. The Night Fury felt his stomach turn itself inside out from hunger. He couldn't stand it. He stalked forward slowly, edging himself closer, his scaled body held away just in case. As he opened his maw to snatch the fish, the man-child opened his pink orifice -they had a strange thing called "lips"- and spoke the words, "Strange I could have sworn you had-" He was cut off as the Night Fury unsheathed his dagger-esque teeth, and in three chomps, finished off his fish.

"Teeth…" The Night Fury suddenly became very focused on the meat-boy. The tiny human's heart was racing as he moved elegantly forward. The human stumbled awkwardly back and stuttered to him. The Night Fury was observing this thin slip of human and when he had the boy pinned against the boulder, the shaky voice said, "No… I-I don't have any more…"

The Night Fury was surprised by the sudden feeling of being quite touched. This insignificant human had brought him a fish to feed him and had had none for himself? The Night Fury directed his body to regurgitate the last piece of fish, and he plopped it on the child's legs. The Night Fury nodded to himself and settled back on his hind legs to watch while the soft-fleshed creature stared at him, slowly blinking.

For a few minutes nothing happened, the human embarrassedly turned his eyes away, and the Night Fury cocked his head, 'Is the man-child slow?' He very deliberately looked down and the fish and then back up at the humans face.

Hiccup let out a sigh and picked up the fish, hesitating as the smell of raw fish and whatever stomach juices had been in the dragon's stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a bite nearly gagging -cod had never really been his favorite- but managed to keep it in his mouth.

"Mmhm." The boy murmured, mouth bulging.

The Night Fury waited, than with an with an inward sigh, mimicked gulping. The human made a humorous noise, and attempted to swallow it. Hiccup managed to get it down on the second gulp, shuddering as the slimy mess slipped down his throat. The great beast seemed pleased though, smacking its own mouth. The Viking boy was suddenly struck by how cute the dragon was. His body went on auto pilot and he reached out to touch the scaly head. Did it feel as smooth as it looked?

The Night Fury realized that he was feeling much too comfortable with this human. Yes he was small and unassuming, but perhaps that was just a plan? A ruse to lure him into becoming comfortable?

With a shriek of anger he leapt away, anger growing when he couldn't stay up without his tail-fin. The pitch-black dragon burned a warm circle and rested comfortably. The pretty chirping of a bird drew his attention and when he looked back down; his face grew irritated when he saw the persistent little human.

With an almost human scowl the dragon shifted his body and curled his tail up over his face, unable to bear looking at the small man-child.

Said man-child had a look of awe on his face and with a childish glee scooted over several times. He reached out a very frail hand -in the sense that it could be snapped off easily- 'so close, I'm so close…'

The tail snapped close and in a single motion the jittery human jumped up, pretending as though he'd been of a mind to get up anyway. The regal Night Fury snorted at the man-child. What did it think him as? A little Terror that you could flash a fish at and be best pals for life?

The scaled beast jumped into a tree and hung by his tail his wings cupped around him to block out the light.

Hiccup sighed as he sat down and watched the large dragon. It was so amazing. This was more amazing than anything he could even comprehend. The very idea of being near such a feared dragon and be still alive! That though, Hiccup supposed, could be easily remedied though. The Viking boy knew he would have to be more cautious.

He sat there for hours just studying the wings of Toothless. Hiccup had decided he had to call the dragon _something_ and that seemed to fit. They had an amazing quality unlike which the boy had ever seen before.

The sun was setting soon. In the red head's idle boredom he picked up a stick and began to doodle in the dirt. He was so occupied he didn't notice the Night Fury had woken.

If the Night Fury had been surprised earlier, he was even more so now. The entire day had passed and that stubborn man-child was still here. There were no other Vikings and no one trying to kill him the black dragon was pleasantly shocked to see.

He heard the sound of the stick scratching in the dirt and walked over. The child tensed up when the boy felt his presence, but the human didn't turn to look back at him.

The slit-pupils dilated slightly as they adjusted to the distance and studied the picture, the suspicion falling away as he saw the resemblance of the doodle to his own reflection in the water. Now the majestic dragon, feared by almost all others, would never admit to what he did; but even for all his reputation really, he was quite young.

Standing up and walking bi-pedal over to a nearby pine tree, the strong Night Fury pulled it up from the ground. Then, much to Hiccup's amazement -and amusement- he began to scrape furrow into the dirt with the end.

For a minute the dragon ran pell mell about the boulder that Hiccup was perched on, before running past the human, who did _not_ appreciate the whack over the back of his head, and finishing with a twirl.

Tossing the pine tree aside, the Night Fury looked with beaming pride at his map of his usual hunting route. It was quite chaotic, but hey those wild goats never just _stayed_ the way stupid sheep did.

Hiccup didn't know if the scribbles had any real meaning as he stood up to observe the lines. He stepped back and nearly died from fright when the dragon went from docile to snarling.

Hiccup observed his boot resting against a line and he lifted it carefully, Toothless's snarling ceased, his crooning back and ears straight out. Feeling a little devious, the boy lowered his foot again and was given another snarl. He did it one more time, but stopped when this snarl was accompanied by Toothless moving down to all fours.

Thinking about it later, Hiccup would have said -if there was anyone even willing to talk to him- he would have said that the resulting movements felt like a dance. Each step and twirl and spin to avoid those lines in the sand. It was almost surreal that at the end of all this "dancing" there was a king of dragons behind him, watching him calculatingly.

When Hiccup looked into those eyes that had been so fierce earlier, he could see no hint of aggression just a window that pulled him into the dragon's soul. The boy could see every flicker of emotion. At the surface was irritation, wonder, and amusement, but deep in their recesses he saw loneliness that could rival his own.

The lithe boy held his breath as the atmosphere of this moment rushed over him. _This _was an important moment. He reached out carefully and slowly, unwilling to be the one to shatter the sudden calm and engaging mood. The dragon snorted, his eyes narrowing and giving a tiny snarl; hardly as aggressive as the ones he gave earlier.

Crushed, Hiccup curled his hand back a little but felt determination well up. Turning his head away, he gave his trust to the dragon that the beast wouldn't hurt him and reached again. He stretched his arm out almost all the way and let it hang there. He could feel his heart racing. If the dragon didn't accept this and turned aggressive, Hiccup knew there would be no reconciliation.

The Night Fury felt his loneliness well up as he stared at the boy who seemed to have looked into his very spirit and being. He gave a half-hearted snarl when the boy reached the first time, but something was pulling him. His heart was pounding to match the man-child's and he felt an irresistible tugging from the boy, not physically, but something was calling to the dragon and he was wholly unprepared to stand against such an emotion.

The most feared of all dragons moved his head a centimeter forward, still resisting, before his resolve broke and he let his eyes slide shut. He pressed his scaled nose into the boy's hand -so warm and so, so soft- finally giving in.

Hiccup felt like he would never breathe again. Breathing might break this spell-bound moment. He looked in awe as he stared passed his hand pressed against the dragon's muzzle -smooth and not as warm as he would have thought- and looked into those toxic green eyes.

The moment broke like a wave breaking upon the unforgiving sand. With a snort the Night Fury leapt away, upset with himself and confused about his heart's desire to ease his loneliness with a _human_ companion. Maybe he had hit a tree a little too hard?

Hiccup didn't want to leave, but he knew that if he continued to push he might just send them back in their bond then forward, and it was too dangerous to walk in the forest by himself at night. Dragons were not the only creatures known to roam the Vikings' island, just the worst.

The exhilarated boy paused at the crack in the wall that lead to the outside and looked back one last time at the Night Fury -no- Toothless. The said dragon was watching him thoughtfully. Was it possible they were more intelligent than Vikings originally thought? Hiccup left with more questions than answers. His original problems had been eclipsed by new ones.

______________

All done! Yay new story! Hope you all like it, I know it's sort of just re-cap right now, but it will be completely different very soon. Leave me a review!


	2. Trial and Error

You all are so great! 25 reviews for the first chapter of a recap? OMGZ Haha, anyway this is the second chapter to Outcast. Hopefully, it's a little more interesting for all of you!

**IMPORTANT NOTE**: I know it's a long note, but its very, very important!

I am going to try and incorporate the myths and beliefs of the Vikings who lived at this time frame. It is important for you all to know that at this time women had more rights then most might think. The women when married never quite joined with their husbands family. If the wife was married and her dowry included a farm, or a ship these remained with her and became in heritage for her children. She was able to divorce if she wished, and could re-marry when her husband died at war or in battle. When she divorced, the children always went with her. A woman was expected to know how to battle, but she was more likely to be well-versed in the art of herbal medicine, how to tend flocks and herds, how to clean and stitch wounds, and to become a "gyðja" which was the Scandinavian or Viking term for a priestess or witch. This was NOT A BAD THING. In fact, gyðja held high societal positions and were revered because they could connect with all of the Norse Gods. Through spells and potions (mixed herbs) they held a "power" that most Vikings wouldn't know about. All women knew how to create medicines from herbs, but little knew of all the history, myths, and time it took to be a gyðja; too busy raising a family. This was almost always a female position, but there were males. The problem with being a male gyðji (male form of gyðja) is that it is considered a female practice, therefore a male practicing it forfeited his rights as a male; because it was thought to be mostly for women. Though they were still respected they were no longer considered fully male. Sorry again, I know it was long but it was necessary for you to understand how Hiccup will be received as a healer. Oh and the elder in the movie? It was very possible she'd have been the gyðja for their tribe.

Less important note: Statistics from skeletons found of "Vikings" show that most were; only 5' 7" on average. Which means if Hiccup was smaller than the ones in the movie, he'd only be, like, 5' 4"! (give or take) To the reviewer "Just_Me" The statistics talk only of adult skeltons, I should have specified.

All warnings, ratings, and disclaimer are the same as chapter one! I don't own any information, movie, or story. I only own the plot line, somewhat. Thank you tsuanyue for the continued help and for the beta work.

Yes, I'm well aware some of the time line from the movie is off. Then again, he's not in dragon training and has all day to spend with Toothless. Mean's getting more done and a lot of things are slightly out of order.

Chapter 2

Hiccup woke up the morning that he should have started dragon training. His heart was heavy at the idea of not sharing a dagmál(1) with his father; but it lightened considerably at the remembrance of yesterday's encounter with the Night Fur- no with Toothless. The lithe teen crawled free from his bed and quickly went about changing, his excitement spurring him to move faster.

He moved toward the hearth and went about making his eggs, his mind wandering as they cooked. Hiccup wasn't sure if he would be needed about the village today or in all honesty if they ever needed him at all. He used to be more upset about it, but now… now he was just numb to it.

As he sat at the table eating breakfast, he looked over his notes with interest, re-scanning the pages he'd just added of the drawn dragon. The teen continued to stare and stare. Why would Toothless be unable to fly if his wings were fine? A brief thought of asking one of the more seasoned dragon slayers occurred, but they probably would just brush him aside and ask why he was running about by himself.

"Gobber!" Hiccup exclaimed, shooting up and overturning the chair he had been sitting upon. "Gobber would know." But even as he thought about it, he knew the man would probably be angry at him for interrupting the dragon training.

Didn't Fishlegs have a dragon manual? Maybe he could find one of those… Wait! Didn't his _dad_ own a manual, as unused as it was?

He spent the next few hours searching the house for the elusive manual -getting a good portion of quite necessary cleaning done- before he finally found it stashed in an old trunk in the back of the dwelling.

The youth now sat on the once dusty wooden floor -completely spotless now- and eagerly flipped through pages, reading aloud to himself. All of the dragons in the pages he came across were dangerous and to be killed on sight. This changed only for the very last entry, "The Night Fury," which only listed no picture and grave words to hide and hope it never found _you_. Which Hiccup could certainly see as true, but really after two days of knowing the dragon, he didn't seem like the type to hunt down humans after he'd lost sight of them. But what did he know? He'd just found the large dragon. It could be incredibly fierce to strangers, but only allowing him close due to its injury.

The book stated very little else other than the many interesting -and downright dangerous- ways you could kill a dragon with your axe, sword, ect. A part of the book captured the lad's attention, "…in the event that you must maim the dragon first, shoot for the wings or cut off the tail. A dragon, without both, can not fly."

Hiccup leapt up and ran over to the table where he'd left his journal. As he padded back over and kneeled down, he threw the book down onto the manual revealing the page where the Night Fury was drawn. His keen eyes looked over the dragon's disconformities before finally realizing the problem the black dragon faced. And of course! How could he have been so silly? Dragons weren't born with _half_ a tail-wing, make it to adulthood, and be able to fly the way the Toothless had the night of the injury.

As he re-drew the missing fin on the paper, his mind suddenly came to an idea. Grabbing the journal up and holding it to his chest, the boy slipped on his boots and ran to the heavy door. He yanked it open hastily and nearly tripped out the steps as he raced to the forge.

Hiccup spent the rest of the morning working on blueprints and with the red-hot steel. The youth decided he'd make a long and thin cylinder that would fit along the base of the tail attached to a series of belts. The length of the other tail-fin -measurements taken while Toothless had slept in the tree- was all guess work.

The problem would be what to use to go in between the spikes that ran at forty-five degree angles down the center vertical spine of the fin. In the end Hiccup chose a supple but strong cow's hide leather. He retrieved the bolts he'd heated, rounded, weighted, and…well stolen from a shield. In his defense, this shield looked shattered and beyond any actual repair. The metal would have been stripped off it anyway with the wooden part being burned for tinder.

He snapped it open and closed a few times to make sure the general mechanics worked the way he'd envisioned it. Hiccup was pleased with the contraption. Now all it would take would be to find a way to get it on the surly dragon. The idea came to the Viking a moment later. Of course. Fish.

So after strapping on a huge shoulder basket that ran done the length of his spine, Hiccup went out of the village, assuring every Viking he encountered -several of them worried that it would start hailing now that he was out and about- that he was going to do a very tame and routine checking of snares for rabbits and minks and maybe do some extra fishing. They all had been pretty reluctant to let him go, mostly apprehensive about how the one that found his wolf-ravaged body would explain to the leader how his deceased son was allowed to leave on his own.

Hiccup avoided the rather sticky mess by telling them that he had nothing else to do, but if they were _really_ uncomfortable with letting him go, he could always try feeding the captured dragons held strictly for dragon training. Which was a dangerous job often given to those with the least status in the village due to… unfortunate accidents. That had changed their minds rather quickly.

So he was currently was walking along a small inlet, alternating between catching an occasional fish with his line and fishing the slippery creatures from the small tide pools where the fish came in at high-tide but became trapped when the water rapidly receded.

In the pack already were quite a few smoked cod, some raw salmon, and a smoked eel. Why the Vikings decided that _that_ squirming black and yellow thing made a meal was beyond him, but they already disliked him enough so there was no way he was telling _them_ he didn't like it.

Hiccup struggled furiously with the heavy pack, trying to walk with such a cumbersome object. When he finally made it to the valley the dragon was in, it took a lot of maneuvering to even fit the pack through the crack.

Wearily -and noisily- he dragged the pack over to Toothless, whose eyes had been upon him suspiciously the entire time the boy struggled to make it over.

Toothless narrowed his eyes while he jumped down from his higher vantage point on the boulder. He hunched down closer to the ground, ready to spring and capture the boy if he made any overtures to attack him -rather unlikely as it was-

But the boy merely heaved in great gulps of air and opened the pack he carried, causing the delicious scent of fish to waft out of it. "Well Toothless, I hope you're hungry. I brought breakfast." He proceeded to kick the full container over.

Toothless blinked, 'Toothless? Who's Toothless? Why'd this insignificant speck of flesh bring me fish? Not that I'm complaining.'

The great dragon crept closer to the pack, decidedly ignoring the human it'd come to know as it sniffed over the contents.

His great-green eyes watching as the human scrunched up a face -making it look even stranger- and stepped carefully around him toeing at a fish. "We've got some Icelandic cod, some nice Salmon, and a whole smoked eel."

The scent hit the great dragon's nose and he recoiled with a hiss and snarling growl. He turned his head to catch some fresh air. What was this idiotic human thinking, bringing him an eel? Everyone knew that it was poisonous to dragons and the smell alone could knock one out if it was kept near the smell for too long. He turned his head to the pale human with a grimace and another snarl. "No! No! No! It's okay! It's okay!"

Frantically, the human picked up the eel and tossed it a good deal away. "There, see? All better! Don't like eel huh? Yeah… I- I don't much like it either."

As riveting as the human was -not- the dragon was hungry and the smell of delicious fish -even with some lingering eel odor- was calling his rumbling stomach. The black dragon continued to ignore the human even as he continued his mindless babble.

"Don't mind me… I'm just going to come back here… minding my own business…"

Hiccup took the newly made fin and started to make his way slowly toward the unmoving tail. As he ducked down, he glanced back one last time to make sure Toothless was occupied with his meal. And ooh boy, did he ever look pleased.

Toothless was indeed pleased. So much delicious fish -even the cooked ones- all without having to do a bit of work; a dragon's dream. He flipped another fish up by its tail and caught it, chomping it down with his powerful jaws.

Hiccup was hard pressed to actually get the long steel cylinder to lay straight against the tail with all the mindless shifting it did. "It's okay, it's alright!" He finally snapped and hopped lightly onto the swishing appendage, while working swiftly to attach the flying gear.

Toothless stood stalk still, the pack basket falling from his face and a surprised look contorting it. 'There is no way that a human would be crazy enough to-'

The entire body suddenly drooped in shock, the Night Fury's wings resting upon the ground. 'This insect is _seriously_ sitting on my tail?' The wings silently fanned out, preparing to leap into the air. He'd show this human what he gets for sitting on him at all!" The dragon also ignored the fact that he really couldn't fly anywhere, much less teach flightless -they should be pitied really- humans their places.

Hiccup, as focused as he was, was sitting back to examine his work. "It's not bad, I guess it'll work." He murmured, his hand stroking his -ugh, still peach fuzz- chin thoughtfully-

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" 'Oh Gods I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to-'

"Crash! We're going to crash!" Well of course they were going to crash into the rocky bluff! The fin wasn't extended! The boy had a sudden clear thought, strangly the clearest, while nearly about to die. He took one precious gripping hand off to reach down and pull out the fin, and then with the feeling of his stomach dropping out through his feet, they were pulling up and skimming the bluff.

"It works!" he screamed to no one in particular, so estatic over one of his inventions working and not injuring -anyone- on his first attempt to use it… wait a minute…

They were going so blindingly fast… up, down, over, under, a twirl here, and a twirl there; Toothless intent on dislodging the cheeky human. Hiccup was hanging on for dear life, praying over and over and over-

"Falling! We're falling!" The boy screamed clutching and scrabbling at the smooth scales to keep purchase, only to be deposited rather harshly in the water.

'No,' thought the Night Fury, 'Only _you're_ fall-'

The thought ended as he roared in frustration over not being able to stay in control of his flight. His body lost altitude and he splashed into the water. 'Oh, _that's_ right.' The large beast though sardonically.

You'd think that Hiccup would be put off by nearly crashing, falling, and drowning, but these were all hazards he'd weathered before. Instead he splashed his way to the shallows and came up crowing in triumph, "I did it!"

Toothless gave a snort and walked away intent to be left alone, bitter with disappointment. The human must be eating some pretty bad eel -it was already horrible anyway- to think this was going to happen again.

Still coming down from his high, Hiccup practically skipped right past the weary dragon training group. Snotlout looked wet as did Ruffnut. The others looked sweaty and partially singed.

Snotlout saw him and decided that a little Hiccup torment would be the perfect way to end a disastrous day in the arena.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't little Hiccup back from a day at the loom?"(2)

Hiccup ignored the slur to his manhood and kept walking with his empty pack.

Snotlout looked visibly angered by the returned insult of not being noticed by the boy he insulted. Singed, wet, bruised, and irritable did not for a happy -if they ever really were- Viking make. He stalked forward his fists already clenched; intent on showing the useless excuse for a Viking a lesson.

They would have continued no doubt had it not been for Gobber walking by, his hammer not afraid to strike out at kids that bothered Hiccup -as per request from his father-.

Hiccup gave the briefest grateful look to the gnarled Viking, who winked at him and ordered, "Alrigh' you bunch o' fish bones, get mov'n." The older man paused to pat Hiccup's shoulder with his good hand as he passed. "Good t' see you're keeping busy."

Hiccup gave a strained smile, "Yeah, busy. No need to worry about me. Just doing the usual…"

Yep, taming dragons and feeding dragons. Oh, and riding a dragon's tail. All the usual right? Hiccup made straight for his house, intent on hiding inside for the rest of the night.

The days passed rather quickly from there. It was mostly trial and error trying to get Toothless back up in the air. Hiccup had fashioned a saddle of sorts -took all day to make-. The large dragon had been _less _than pleased at the attempt to saddle him like a horse and proceeded to run about the smaller human until the boy finally gave up catching him… that day. Toothless was not so observant the next morning, half asleep and gulping down fish.

That had been a disaster all of itself. Hiccup had the -ahem- brilliant idea of tying a rope to the tail to keep it open. Unfortunately, after the initial take-off, the boy yanked a little too hard and… yeah, they crashed. On a good note, dragons loved the long Kitty grass (3). The downside was actually getting the hopped up and loopy dragon back in the air again. It took several hours, the drugged dragon knocking Hiccup off his feet and trying to incite the human -who wasn't so bad the dragon guessed- to roll and play a little. (High Toothless. LOL. Loooove.)

Then it was back to the drawing board, trying to come up with a way to keep a hold of the damned thing -the saddle- while steering the tail-fin all at the same time. First off he created a riding harness, one that crisscrossed over his shoulders and connected all together in a metal ring around his chest. This in turn snapped onto a long leather cord that connected to a metal ring on the saddle.

The other problem was much trickier, requiring much more patience than Hiccup originally thought he had, but the idea of riding a _dragon. _That spurned him onward to making a lever of sorts. It was a piece of metal that when he pushed in a direction, only down or releasing up, it clinched the metal tail-fin. So if he wanted to help Toothless steer right, one click and the tail-fin would angle itself so that the great dragon could soar easily in that intended direction.

The first attempt at the new "pedal" passed and failed all at the same time. While the pedal worked -quite a few inventions seemed to work these days-, the rope that had essentially kept them only a few feet in the air snapped. _Another_ crash. This time, the ring that connected his harness to the saddle had been damaged to the point where it would be impossible without tools to get it open enough to separate from the dragon.

All the way back Hiccup grumbled, Toothless happily walking behind. Even if he was following the human that was treating him as a glorified horse, he was glad to be out of the small valley that kept him a glorified prisoner.

The mission of "get-back-to-forge-without-Gobber-or-any-other-Viking-seeing" was officially underway when darkness fell. It was blacker than most nights. Most older Vikings were already on their way to beds. He pressed Toothless back and then jumped out to stand casually against the side of the forge. Raising a hand and nodding a greeting when the night watch called out -his father was chief so Hiccup knew the schedules- before peering out carefully. "Come on boy."

Toothless blinked. Who was this pipsqueak calling a boy? He'd eaten larger dragons than him in the past for just talking to the Night Fury. Well… he needed this boy he supposed. He could always just kidnap the boy-child later after this whole "new tail-fin" panned out and worked all the bugs out.

To the large black dragon's defense, sheep should not be left out in the open at _any _time, even when it was believed that there were no dragons around. As Hiccup dragged him into a terrible smelling, dank, and dark -not so dark for his own eyes with perfect night vision- little building, he waited idly for the inventive teen to get the ring undone. Then he spotted it, a little white ewe chomping away mindlessly at a piece of grass. It had been a long time since the Night Fury had dined on sheep.

The sheep -in its defense- never really had such a moment of thought as when he stopped mid-chomp to stare into glittering predatory eyes, '...oh dear...'

Hiccup was cursing and muttering under his breath while he all but banged at the ring to try and dettach it, "stupid metal, stupid wind, stupid Berk…meh…"

"Who's there?!" came a sudden and furious command. Hiccup nearly dropped the tool in his hand in sheer shock. That was –ahhh- Astrid's-… Oh Hel and Odin! Astrid! The boy quickly shoved apart the two swinging doors at the front of the building and closed them quickly behind him. "Astrid! Hey, Astrid. W-W-What's going on? Gobber's not here right now… and um yeah."

The pretty blonde Viking girl eyed him slowly. "I heard a noise. What are you doing out here by _yourself_?" she demanded.

Hiccup gave a mental eye roll. 'Thank you Astrid. As if I didn't have enough people worrying about me stepping outside my own house, let's add the girl of my dreams as babysitter. Real mood killer.'

"Gobber gave me a few projects to work on. I figured I'd get at least one of them done tonight."

A sudden tightening on the harness attached to him alerted him that _something_ was not right. The tightening became tugging. "Uh, Astrid it was nice talking to you and all, but um, I'm at a very critical stage in the metal I'm working and I've got to go now. Bye!."

That was all he could manage before he was literally tugged back in.

Despite saying that, when Astrid threw open the shuddering doors, there was no expected heat, and the idiot boy was gone...

Toothless -again in his defense- would not allow himself to be blamed for the loss of the sheep. 'If you didn't want anything to happen to it, put it in a barn,' the broody dragon thought.

They were gone like a flash into the starry clear sky, heading off into the forest so Hiccup could properly work on the harness in peace and so Toothless could digest properly. Maybe the human would even buff his scales the way he had the day before.

* * *

If the scene where the two go back to the forge is _not_ because of the busted ring, then I must not have caught what it really was; but I'm pretty sure that's the reason he went back to the village _with_ the _NIGHT FURY._

In the movie, why didn't he just cut the rope with his Seax? (that would be his knife by the way)... eager boy with a dragon? Yeah, I wouldn't have thought of it either.

Slight Spoiler for book!

The next chapter will be where this diverges from the last bit of the movie and more toward the book. Mainly in the fact that in the book Hiccup _is_ exiled by his father for failing dragon training. Because Hiccup still hasn't taken training and hasn't really given much thought to changing his mind, he will either be banished to purge himself or exiled for a set time. After all, a leader may declare how long someone is to be exiled for.

1) Dagmal- Vikings ate two meals a day, the dagmal is the eaten for breakfast usually a few hours after sun-up. The final meal eaten at nattmal, eaten after the sun went down.

2) A slur to a Viking's manhood would be to insult them with anything a woman was supposed to do. Sewing, cooking, foraging, tending fields, keeping house, and using a loom (to create finer woolen garments) would be considered insults if stated to a male. This also was punishable by law if the slur was great enough.

3) Kitty Grass- IT DOES EXIST!!! I did _not_ just make it up. It's real and no, I don't care if anyone uses this name in their stories, cause I can't exactly own a labeled grass can I? I don't know exactly _what_ kind of grass it was, so I just chose one that is known for its effect on animals. Of course, I could own physical patches of it in my own yard… my cat would go absolutely nuts. This is more aimed at poking fun at the European generalizations that Dragons were magical and some could transform -most often into cats-. Many descriptions of European dragons in myths have them described as being cat-like. Whether in features or actions it isn't specified too often. Also, on the subject of Kitty Grass, you can buy seeds to grow the grass on your own, which means it has to grow wild _somewhere; _for the sake of the story. Let's say it grows outside of Berk.

Hope you all enjoyed. Sorry if it's still a little boring right now.

Umm, yeah, see ya!


	3. Special Power

I am so delighted by all your reviews and I hope I don't disappoint. This chapter is the last of a sort of re-cap with a few things thrown in. In the movie, during what I'm going to call the montage, after Toothless lands in the Kitty Grass the next sequence is about Hiccup using the grass on a Gronckle. So, in this it will be slightly different. But you'll all read that soon enough, enjoy.

A round of applause to my beta, tsuanyue, for having to put up with all my mistakes, (wince), I know there are quite a few of them…

DON'T WORRY!! I have not forgotten the "magical first flight" when the two finally get in sync. I thought it would be more dramatic if the first time they truly fly together, was after Hiccup had lost everything else. I feel he'd embrace it more fully, so that will be next chapter!

**Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN**, I am borrowing the characters from the movie "How To Train Your Dragon," that belongs to DreamWorks. The book belongs to Cressida Cowell, who in turn will tell you it _really_ does belong to Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. She's just translating.

**Ratings**: Eh, it's still a very low T

**Warnings: **Not much to warn for yet. Maybe in the late (very late) chapters there might be some gore, but for right now, not much.

**Note: **Surprisingly, there might not be as much terminology and if there is, it won't be numbered. I'll just list them at the end. Since this is the last re-cap and I've pretty much already explained everything in the last two chapters, I guess I'll just put some random Viking trivia at the end… The encounter later in the chapter between Snotlout and Hiccup is essentially your typical jock trying to apologize to the geek (that turns out to be that athlete they need to win the game) without sacrificing his manliness and admit he was wrong for being an ass. Don't worry. You'll see what I mean.

"_This be dragonese." _Whenever Toothless responds, it will be in dragonese unless it is a thought. This is because sooner or later (SPOILER FOR BOOKS!) Hiccup will learn the language.

Listening to: Because I needed a ton of inspiration today to get my lazy butt moving to update, these are the songs I listened to for no reason at all: Come Into My World- Kylie Minogue, Optimistic- Radiohead, and Blood on My Hands- The Used (I don't own anything!)

Chapter Three: Special Power

Hiccup was struggling the next morning. He had been told -okay, _ordered-_ to deliver a pack of lunch to the would-be-someday dragon trainees. This in itself was decent enough for Hiccup. The woman giving him the pack was only worried he would drop it somewhere along the way.

He knew she was probably thinking that this was all he was really fit to do, and all the villagers were nervous when Hiccup had _too_ much time to himself. All kinds of crazy things were cooked up when the boy had no supervision.

The Viking woman stood up, pushing a few strands of brown hair from her face with a firm stroke of her hand. She eyed the thin, she sighed, _struggling_ boy with the pack basket. It really wasn't his fault he was born in such a way, and who could question Odin? 'Whatever he gets up to these days, it can't be anything worse than the wine-making contraption he built.' She thought idly as she tended to the chickens.

Oh yes, that was a memory _no one_ was forgetting anytime soon. Vikings were still walking around with limps. No one really _hated_ the boy. He was still one of their village, but he was so destructive. He could touch stone and it would crumble…

'Well, that could be useful in battle.' The elder woman mused. 'We could send him into enemy villages and all he would have to do is touch the buildings…'

-With Hiccup-

Sweating profusely, the salty liquid stinging his eyes, Hiccup finally managed to drag the huge pack basket into the arena. The lithe teen was standing by his earlier statement that the villagers could, er, _stand_ to lose a few meals.

Hiccup really didn't even know why the trainees even needed their lunch to be brought to them. They had a Grand Hall where they always took their meals, and they never had before needed to have their meals delivered.

Wiping sticky, cooling sweat from his brow with a green sleeve, he looked down at his furred vest. A few blades of grass clung to a pocket. Raising an eyebrow, a thin hand reached down and grabbed the tiny clump. It was soft, and a gentle spicy scent hit his nose. 'Kitty Grass? I don't remember grabbing any…"

"Hiccup!? What are you doing get out of the way!" Gobber's frantic voice screamed out at him.

Looking up in surprise, the boy froze up in shock at seeing an enormous Gronckle beating toward him with its awkward wings. Gasping, Hiccup fell back with a yelp, feet tripping over the innocent pack basket with food.

"Hiccup!" a trainee called out, but the boy was too stiffened to turn and identify which teenager it had been. Even if he did wish it was Astrid. The Gronckle didn't show any signs of stopping and it was feet away from barreling into the russet-haired boy. The elder up above the arena was pointing furiously with gnarled fingers to those standing around to jump down into the pit and pull the child away.

Everything seemed to slow for Hiccup. The ugly green dragon was slowed. The frantic movements of the adults were nearly standing still. Despite the danger to his life, Hiccup could only remember when he had been with Toothless in the field of Kitty Grass… It had been so peaceful. What would happen to the dragon now if he died?

'Kitty Grass…?'

"Kitty Grass!" the whisper more an expulsion of pent up breath than an actual statement.

Looking into his clenched hand, the world sped back up again and with a cry of fear Hiccup raised the grass up in front of him. Inches from him, the Gronckle stopped, its eyes dilating from the scent of the grass, its entire body trembling in a joy that could only come from a high.

It dropped in front of him and Hiccup furiously rubbed it under the dragon's nostrils. 'Just stay like that. Please, just stay.'

From the way Hiccup was sitting, all the adults -and his stunned "peers"- had identical looks of shock and awe. For them it looked as though the slip of a teen had merely raised one delicate hand and the dragon had frozen at the unsaid command.

Hiccup slowly laid the grass down on the ground. The green beast's nose followed it and continued to inhale deeply. Thus free from threat of being eaten, the boy scrambled away, a blush rising to his cheeks from embarrassment and fear. What would they say? Turns out, none of the other Vikings that had been watching could say anything, too stunned.

"R-right, um… Dylla wanted me to bring you all your lunch… I'm, uh, going to just… Yeah, bye." The tongue-tied boy finally just gave up and beat a hasty retreat to the gated exit and took off running for the forest.

Gobber blinked slowly. What just happened here? He tapped his hammer attachment against his false tooth. Well, he had asked Dylla to bring lunch to the training arena. He thought the teens would need a lot more extra training today. He was rather reluctant at the idea of giving them a break. These children were too soft and whined constantly about breaks, "Gobber, the Gronckle burned my shield. I need to get another one." or "Ahhhhh!!! The Nadder just shredded my favorite shirt! I'll get him… later. Can we eat yet?"

Gobber shook his head, the blond mess of hair bobbing with him. They would never be ready for real dragon fighting if they didn't stop bickering every few minutes. Even the stolid Astrid was not above beating up Snotlout for every overt come-on he tried on her. Tuffnut and Ruffnut would not cease their sibling rivalry for even a few minutes. Valhalla forbid that Snotlout pull himself from his teenage hormones for longer than a few seconds. And poor Fishlegs had little desire to even _attack_ a dragon, let alone slay one.

The Gronckle had been led to be put away -Gobber had known the food would be coming soon- but it would not go without a fight this time, plenty of its fire left to be spat. Then Hiccup had come waltzing -okay, more like staggering in- with the scent of food- enough to drive a Gronckle mad with hunger.

But it had just _stopped_. No blood, no shouts or screams, not even a weapon drawn. And _Hiccup_ was the one that had brought the beast to its knees? Had the world gone mad? 'Odin, it's Ragnarök. Isn't it?' the man thought.

The blond man looked up toward the heavens, expecting to see Odin himself descending down from Valhalla riding Sleipnir down from the blue skies. The idea alone of Hiccup not dying and effectively downing a dragon… 'I need to sit down…' came the faint thought. What if the boy had died?! Stoick would have fed him chunk by chunk to a Monstrous Nightmare, despite the close warrior-friends that they were.

Shaking himself, he bellowed, "What do you slackers think they're doing? _Hiccup_ just managed to down a dragon faster than all five of you together."

The said five scrambled to line back up. Gobber shook his head again. why was it always him? Gobber get the weapons ready! Gobber watch Hiccup! Gobber train me some new recruits!

Not that he'd ever question Stoick. The leader of Berk was a good and strong man, worthy of unquestioning loyalty. Gobber still longed to be able to jump into battle again. He missed the feel of swinging his battle hammer at the first rushing of wings, screaming battle cries. Ugh, children though? No Viking man enjoyed teaching teenagers. Children were pampered, and the adults were valued; but the in-between stages were headaches sent to Gobber, hand delivered from Hel herself.

-With Hiccup-

Hiccup ran past the whipping branches, furious with himself for giving away even a tiny part of his secret. What if an adult put together anything? The red-haired teen was smart enough to know that the Vikings probably _weren't_ smart enough to jump from "He used Kitty Grass to settle the Gronckle!" straight to "He's keeping a Night Fury! That _must_ be the connection!"

It could cause unwanted attention though. That would be sticky. As of right now the villagers were content to allow Hiccup time to himself near the outskirts of the forest. The boy figured that they probably weren't wholly concerned with him "knocking over" a tree, as they were him knocking over fire in the forge. And that was good- Hiccup concluded- because the less supervision he had then the more he could work with Toothless.

The black dragon was proving to be an enigma of epic proportions. Eager to be coddled and enjoy the sense of touch one second, the next Hiccup's hand would come away with scratches and snap marks -the dragon seemed unwilling at least to truly remove his hand- causing the boy endless worry.

Sometimes, the dragon would purr and settle himself close by, seemingly interested in being groomed or touched in any manner, but the second the Viking teen reached out to do so, the dragon would shriek at him with rage.

Even more mind boggling -there was always more to talk about when it came to Toothless- was that the boy had not become more graceful but he _was_ falling less. The bi-polar dragon would appear as though from thin air at his elbow whenever the boy gained even a threatening wobble.

Hiccup loved the moments when the dragon seemed to lower his guard enough to play with the boy. A modified version of tag, drawing competitions, and who could hang the longest from a branch were a few games the dragon seemed at peace with. Even better was when afterward the fierce dragon would allow the lad to curl up at his side and they both would just enjoy the peaceful spring day, eyes closed and chest rising together in an entranced rhythm.

Hiccup climbed the grassy knoll and smiled with relief when he spotted the crack in the bluff. He squeezed past it and found himself on the familiar ledge, looking down into the natural bowled valley.

"Toothless?" He called carefully. What mood was the dragon in today? From the ground the black shape gave a crooning keen. Hiccup smiled involuntarily of himself. That was a happy sound. The boy began to climb down, looking more like anthropomorphic spider, pale white and clinging carefully to every nook for his fingers to clasp.

The teen managed to make it to the ground without a mishap. Toothless came trotting up to him. 'It's about time,' the dragon thought. The male dragon butted his head beneath the tiny human's elbow, _"You, human, scratch this itch would you? Below my ear?"_

The red-haired boy knew that Toothless was trying to communicate with him. The low grumbling growls did not seem threatening. For a moment Hiccup continued to stand still, unsure what the dragon -now fiercely butting his head against the thin boy's side- wanted from him.

"_Useless creature, ah, it's driving me insane!"_

Giving up with the human, Toothless stalked over to a low-hanging tree branch and managed to position himself to rub his head against the point. It helped only a little, and once the itch had been acknowledged it grew nearly maddening. Toothless was nearly spitting blue fire in rage when a soft, warm hand with short -still sharp- nails began to scratch.

The grumbles exploded into purrs that echoed all about the pair. The dragon's entire body leaned toward the slender boy nearly bowling him over, his mind switching off as the pleasure of a good scratching overwhelmed him. _"Ugh, lower, hmmmmmmm."_

Hiccup looked in amazement as the large beast practically melted into a pile of warm black dragon goop, all from being _scratched _behind an ear. The boy snickered a little. Like a large shaggy dog… only with scales… and a lot more teeth. Distractedly, the teen's hands wandered scratching the expanse of the side of the neck. His left hand drifted beneath the scaly chin. He remembered how the cats in the stables enjoyed being scratched beneath their chins.

There was an enormous thump and the boy gasped as Toothless collapsed bonelessly at his feet. A pleasured look on the smooth face and the boy was both amazed and flushed from embarrassment. What must that have felt like for the dragon? Laughing the boy kneeled down and now stroked the strong warm sides, "You okay boy?"

"_Meh, ask me later… hmm, higher." _The body lowered even further to the ground and Hiccup found him scratching up near the shoulder. A small smile persisted to stay pasted to the boy's lips and nothing would tear it off.

-That Night-

That night at the Grand Hall, Hiccup sat uncomfortably in his seat. Now being Hiccup, he was used to stares, glances, and flat out glares of the other villagers; usually filled with scorn. This, this was an entirely different feeling. From the very second he sat down, every eye in the room was glued to his form.

He sat ramrod straight and nervously tapped his feet under the wooden tables, hardly able to choke down his dry chicken. The serving women stopping by him often -very unusual- to ask if he wanted more honeyed mead or if he wanted more turnips.

It was like a parallel world. Not a single person was glaring at him -well, Astrid was, but that wasn't anything new- and there were no low whispers of what a screw-up he was. That didn't ease the teen's uncomfortable tenseness, nor did it stop that icicle-down-his-spine feeling.

Eventually, he gave up picking at his chicken and cleared his throat. Now every head was turned toward him as well as every eye. The red-haired boy opened his mouth, suspiciously noting the several bodies that leaned forward. "Uh, good night…"

He darted from the Grand Hall. Seconds before the door shut heavily, the boy's keen hearing caught the cacophony of voices as they all exploded into talking at once. The teen shuddered and walked to his home.

"So weird," he whispered to his shadow cast by Bil.

He made it to his new cottage -all buildings were new in Berk- and yawned. It had been a long, and well, interesting day; but it was time for sleep. Climbing wearily up the many stairs to his bedroom, the boy sighed as he looked about the lonely house. Hiccup managed to get the fire going properly in the small fire place that heated the upstairs, and banked the fire properly so it wouldn't die before the morning. Hiccup was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

-Next Morning-

If last night had been strange, this morning was even more so. Before the boy could even fathom having his dagmall, the door was being nearly pounded down. There stood Snotlout, who looked both uncomfortable and awestruck all at the same time, making for a rather awkward expression. Hiccup blinked, his brow furrowing in annoyance. "What?" he snapped.

The burly boy looked properly sheepish, "Gobber sent me to tell you he wants to see you today after your dagmall."

Hiccup nodded absently and went over to the open hearth, his nimble hands reaching here and there to assemble the ingredients to make his morning meal. He felt the hairs on his neck prickle and he turned to see Snotlout still standing in the doorway, eyes round and staring. Hiccup could nearly smell the grinding of the gears in the boy's head as he tried to work out exactly how such a small teen could so effectively stop a Gronckle.

They both stared for a long moment, before Hiccup nodded with a snort toward a seat at the rough-worked pine table. He made the usual eggs and heated up frozen, thick broth that he'd stored away a day before.

He grabbed metal plates and wiggled the scrambled eggs onto the metal plates. Placing those on the table, he grabbed a loaf of bread Dylla had dropped off yesterday for him, slicing three thick slices from it. Setting the bread down, he snooped about for the butter. Then he placed that and the two bowls of the broth down.

Snotlout looked shame-facedly at the boy, struggling to think of a way to broach the subject of an apology. He finally decided to start with, "What you did yesterday was amazing! The Gronckle just fell over when you touched it! How did you do it?"

As much as the smaller teen would have liked to tell the other boy, Hiccup couldn't risk it. He merely shrugged and gracefully side-stepped the question -the only thing he was graceful at was dodging questions-. "Eat. The dragons will have nothing on Gobber if you're late for training."

'It isn't so bad,' Hiccup mused as he watched the other wolf down the meal in only a few minutes. Snotlout paused as he stood up, intent to leave for training. "Uh, you aren't so bad a Viking. I guess. Astrid took twice as long to knock out a Gronckle than you did. That counts for something right?"

Hiccup wanted to laugh at the elder teen's "manly apology" but didn't want the proud boy to turn back into a troll that insulted him at every turn. "Yes, I suppose so."

The other boy looked distinctly uncomfortable now, and not knowing what else to do, slugged Hiccup in the shoulder before walking out the door. "Don't forget about Gobber!"

Hiccup felt the stinging pain in his shoulder, but couldn't find the effort to be angry. To him, this sting was beginning of true acceptance. If it took getting a punch from every Viking on the island for him to fit it, then line 'em up. Hiccup was ready.

-After dagmall-

His early confidence that Hiccup had when he'd woken up this morning had fled from him now like a rat from the pursuing feline. He stood in front of the arena once again, twitching from excess adrenaline. His body remembered nearly dying here, and though his mind told his stalling body that there was nothing to worry about this time, the body thrummed tensely.

It was ridiculous. Gobber had sent for him this morning. Hiccup wasn't just wandering in at a bad time. Using the crank lever, Hiccup grunted as he managed to get it a few feet up and slipped quickly beneath the open gate before it crashed behind him. Much to his horror, Hiccup's body seemed to have known what was up. In front of him was a Deadly Nadder, its bright yellow and blue striated patterns seemingly out of place for such a violent dragon.

It turned on him, its sensitive hearing catching the screech of the gate. Hiccup whirled around and scrabbled at the closed gates, crying out. But- what? Wait, hadn't Gobber sent for him? "Gobber what are you doing!?" he screeched -screw manliness- in fear and rage.

Gobber peered down at him from above the arena beside the elder. "Don't worry Hiccup. I'm sure you'll do fine! The elder commanded you join the dragons training. There is no reason for you to not to, not after yesterday."

The boy looked to the approaching Nadder. His eyes caught sight of a shocked and upset Snotlout, who was unsure of what he was supposed to do. Since all of the trainees were now backing away in horror, but their curiosity was winning out. Astrid snorted at her peers' hesitation and with a war cry she raised her axe and raced toward the Nadder.

Hiccup gasped when the Nadder braked in front of him. It sniffed cautiously at him, even seeming to back away fear before the sharp spikes about its neck stood out straight as Astrid ran toward them.

Hiccup spotted the blue scaled neck. He didn't want Astrid to hurt it, especially since it seemed more playful then hostile, as though it enjoyed stirring up the trainees. His fingers went to work scratching at the scales, the Nadder's eyes going wide with shock, before the pupils dilated in pleasure.

His fingers hit that certain spot under the chin and the Nadder gave a groan before falling to his feet, Astrid's shocked and indignant visage came into sight only a few feet away.

Laughing cautiously, Hiccup began to skitter back nervously from the girl Viking, who looked like she just might to decide to use her axe against _him. _The small Viking raised his spidery hands and held the palms out non-threateningly. "I-I-I'll just be leaving now!"

He practically ran from the arena, leaving a wake of confused, astonished, and frankly excited Vikings, all exclaiming at once. Gobber himself was nodding furiously in joy and relief. Stoick's son wasn't a complete loss after all.

Oh, if only he knew…

-With Hiccup-

Hiccup felt tears stinging in his eyes as he dashed away from the village. He couldn't believe it! Forcing him into dragon training? No! He would not kill dragons. He could never kill the creatures, especially since he saw beneath the vicious snarls and pearly teeth. He could see the good natures underneath their evil façade.

The emerald leafed forest passed by in green blurs. Why did they _all_ need to become Dragon Slayers? Why wasn't it possible for him to just be… he didn't know, but there had to be something he could do to still be useful and not have to _kill_ anything.

"I will not slay dragons!" he yelled to no one in particular, then thought it over. "Do you hear me Odin? I will not kill them!"

For a moment the boy glanced around suspiciously, and expectantly, waiting to be struck with a lightning bolt from Thor for daring to speak so against Odin. There was nothing. The birds were chirping still. The sky was still blue. Hiccup's kind eyes narrowed as the decision hardened in his stomach, causing him to feel slightly sick.

It was as though he was denying the very essence that made a Viking a Viking. They were synonymous; a warrior was a Viking, and a Viking was a warrior. Was it possible to be one and not the other?

Hiccup banished the threatening tears as he approached the valley, slipping in silently and scrambling down without so much as a word to the large dragon. Said dragon gazed at the obviously distressed man-teen.

He stalked over -graceful as a black jaguar in a jungle- and laid down near the boy's legs. _"Hard day for you, huh, human?"_

Toothless would later ignore the niggling worry that seemed to wiggle beneath every scale and stick there like little scale-tics. He would also ignore the pressing question of, "Why do I care?"

For now, it was enough for the red-haired slip of man to lay a soft hand on him that had no calluses from training daily with weapons but was covered with small tiny burns and old scars from working in a forge. It was enough for the little human to collapse against his side and curl up like a little dragonet and sob.

Toothless remained stoic through it all, not harassing the human for dripping tears onto his smooth scales, nor begrudging the boy for needing an understanding presence. He raised a wing to cover the boy like a blanket. Hiccup sniffled and heaved a sigh, tension draining away, "Toothless, if I was forced to leave, would you come with me?"

The dragon snorted and curled his fanned tail up over his nose. _"As if I have a choice," _he huffed out gruffly, but his eyes were much more kind. He crooned, the boy giving a tiny smile. "I'm glad I couldn't kill you." Then he dropped off into a nap.

Toothless gazed up at the sky he longed to return to, and then stared down at his tail. _"Perhaps it would have been better," _he warbled carefully.

The valley fell into silence as the dragon and the boy fell to sleep.

-That Night and Next Day-

Hiccup had avoided eating with the other Vikings that night. In fact, he had snuck into his own village after night had fallen just to avoid them, feeling like an outsider when he really was the next in line to be leader.

He managed to run to his house without being seen. He fumbled with the keys at his waist and struggled to unlock the door before anyone walked by; half drunk from ale and too much food. He closed the door and relocked it from the inside. Skipping food, skipping every night ritual he'd ever had, the boy half-crawled and half-limped his sorry behind upstairs.

Collapsing to the smooth wooden floor, he grasped at the fluffy pillow beneath his bed and pulled it out. When his arm was half-way out, he changed his mind and shoved it back under.

He lit the fire in the fire place and paced a little. Weariness pressed down upon him and Hiccup could no longer think, his body and mind numb. Gripping a fur from the bed, he crawled underneath the bed and curled up. The bed above him felt like the comforting wing from the afternoon.

He awoke hours later, his eyes opening to slits, hissing dispassionately. For a moment his mind was blissfully quiet, but slowly -agonizingly slowly- the events of yesterday came trickling back despite his best attempts to ward off the building crescendo. It was a potion for an instant headache. Viking boy plus inability to slay dragons equals pain.

Hiccup was protected from the harshest glares of the sun due to his sprawl beneath the bed, his eyes lazily tracing the sunbeams that spread across the oak floor boards. He was very comfortable and in no hurry to really stir. An unusual desire to curl up and stay underneath in this little haven was almost overpowering.

Today the ships were coming back. This day he'd wait with bated breath as the noble ships would dock. His eyes would scan and pray his father made it back safely. Today he would give his father his answer. And today would be the last day he was a Viking of Berk.

The sick feeling was back. His guts clenched in anguish. Hiccup blew out a sigh, his hair fringe hanging into his eyes. Gritting his teeth, the thin teen rolled over and crawled out, grumbling unintelligibly.

Stumbling down the steps, sleep clouding his vision, the russet-haired boy staggered into the common dwelling. For a moment he entertained the idea of eating, but the twist in his innards stomped the idea flat. Instead, a grasping hand reached out blindly searching for the tea leaves, while the other gathered water in the metal pot.

Hiccup added the dried rose hips, the chamomile leaves, and the shredded Willow Bark to settle his upset stomach and soothe his headache. He was rather sure that it wouldn't help. The pain was more emotional than physical. The scent of chamomile was a little soothing though, and he felt some tension leave his shoulders.

It didn't take very long for the water to boil and the leaves to steep. Pouring himself some tea into a wooden cup, he walked over to a locked metal door. His hands found the proper key. He unlocked the door and stepped into a considerably colder room. It received little heat because it was the farthest away from the hearth. The room was small, only a few feet wide, but it ran many feet back. The walls were lined with rough shelves and Hiccup shivered as he walked through the narrow room. His eyes alighted on the honeycombs deep in the back. A week or so old, it had been left for Hiccup. The boy figured it was a bribe of sorts. It was hard to find honeycombs so early in the spring.

Gently breaking a piece off of the main, he watched as the honey dripped ever so slightly, only to nearly freeze a few seconds later. He walked quickly back out and murmured in pleasure as the warmth of the hearth reached his face.

Stirring the honeycomb into the tea, the boy eagerly sipped at it, sighing in pleasure. It was peaceful right now, but so lonely with just him sitting by himself and sipping tea.

A resounding knock at the door stirred the teen from his reverie, much to his annoyance. Setting the smooth wooden cup down, he walked over and yanked open the door, surprised to see Fishlegs standing nervously in front of him.

"Hey Hiccup… uh, just wanted to stop and say the ships are coming in." The larger boy shifted his weight. He was standing next to the boy that had managed to stop a Gronckle and a Nadder in their tracks.

Hiccup nodded faintly. "Thank you Fishlegs."

The boy gave a bark of shrill laughter and edged away. "Alright then, see you at training today, uh… yeah."

The boy turned and nearly stumbled down the many steps to the ground and hastily walked toward the arena.

Hiccup snorted, startling himself only a little at the habit picked up from a certain reptile. He walked back in and finished his tea in record time before he locked up the house.

The walk to the docks was the shorter than the boy remembered. Hiccup stood looking down at the three charred, bitten, and tattered ships. The panicky sick feeling exploded full force in his guts.

He saw Gobber reach down into the ship and clasp a meaty fist with another meaty fist. The teen recognized his father. The relief was immediate. His father was alive and seemingly safe.

The aforementioned man looked up at the feeling of being stared at. His incredibly blue irises drilled the lad who gulped.

What was the best way to tell such a proud man that his only son- next in line to lead the village- had no wish to continue on his family's business of kicking ass and destroying dragons?

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed it!

If there are extra mistakes that my beta nor I caught, please feel free to point them out so I can correct them! Eventually, I figure all of them will get corrected, one way or another.

I wonder how many people were strange like me as a kid? I had a bed (not the same one I have now but similar) that stood about two feet up from the floor and since I had carpets, I would climb under there and sleep. I also had a walk-in closet and when I had a real bad day I'd go inside it and crawl beneath a shelf that was about waist-high. The clothes would hang down and block out the light; it was very soothing there too. Not that I was an angst riddled child, but everyone just has some bad days. So, yeah Hiccup has a habit that is kind of like mine. Bad day = Hide under bed.

Some terminology mentioned in this chapter.

Valhalla- again, this is a place that every hero wants to go. If a warrior does not die in battle, they fear going to a shadow underworld called Niflheim that was very boring and a Viking warrior's worst nightmare.

Odin was mentioned as well as his steed that has eight legs. Ragnarok was mentioned. This is considered to be the final clash of the gods. I'm using it as a substitute for the phrase "Hell must be freezing over."

Hel was mentioned. She's the goddess of the dead.

Dagmall was mentioned. It is essentially breakfast.

Rosehips, Chamomile, and Willow Bark: These three ingredients together are both very tasty and soothing.

Rosehips: A natural anti-inflammatory and they smell very good.

Chamomile: High in calcium, the leaves are very good for relaxing the muscles. It is good for upset stomachs and zaps stress. That is mainly why it is good for those that take it before bed.

Willow Bark (not the outer bark): The inner bark is shredded and used as a natural pain-reliever. It's very gentle and works well. You can take it as long and as much as you want.

(Willow Bark tea is a memory from reading "Clan of the Cavebear" by Jean Auel. It is used often in the book by the medicine woman. I don't own the rights to the book or the movie adaptation. I also am not using anything from the book. _I_ use Willow Bark tea occasionally for muscle aches.)

Honeycombs: You can eat the whole comb _and it is delicious!_

Can't really think of much else. The next chapter will be the exile! (Cause you all didn't see that coming, right?)


	4. Black Despair

Hi everyone! I know it's been a while since I updated this story. So, here is the fourth chapter, I hope you all enjoy it! A quick warning! Yes, some of these scenes are out of order and a little mangled. There is a Terrible Terror that was not fought in this fic that was in the movie, and a few other things are cut out due to me not wanting to recap _everything_ from the movie. Also, dialogue is _not_ exact. Gobber did not help Stoick out of the boat, but hey, creative license right…right? (ducks flung axes)

**A Small Note: **This chapter is strange for me, mostly because I have to incorporate a ceremony to set up the exiling of Hiccup, and that alone breaks my poor brain. So we'll see how it goes. I scoured the internet, but I didn't find anything really conclusive in what Vikings did to those that they wanted to exile, but I figure they probably would just, I don't know… kill them? So, I apologize in advance if this chapter feels awkward. Also, I did visit an _official _medical journal for lists of plants that produced hallucinogenic effects, that a shaman, or gyoja, would use in a ceremony. The fungus Amanita muscaria came up and it said that it was thought to have been discovered and used by Vikings for spiritual practices. So, yeah, I looked it up and there is no hard physical proof, but for the sake of the story, we're going with that. Oh yeah, and guess what it looks like, hmm? Anyone? A large white mushroom, that is bright candy-apple red with white spots; yeah. Poisonous, but not in all cases fatal, it needs to be- wait, why am I telling all of you? (looks awkward)…uh… and yeah becareful, because sometimes they are yellow with white!

WARNING: DON'T EAT THE SHROOMS that grow in your forest. Many fungus look the same and really will kill you, instead of "maybe" killing you.

Extra note: To the reviewer "Just_Me", you asked me a few questions, and I can't answer because you are're an anon, so here are the answers, er, I think. Again please remember I'm no history buff, and have never claimed to be, if any of my information is wrong, please feel free to correct.

About your statement to the Viking women, I should have been more specific of course. I meant for free women, they had more freedom and rights then many people might think the would have for the time period. About your comment where Hiccup mentions needing a doctor when they are first facing the Gronckle, if they were going to be correct to history, they could have used whatever word they had for doctor. I'm simply saying that Goyja, were the Vikings version of a shaman. In some cultures, the shaman IS the doctor; again correct me if I'm wrong, I really can't say much outside some research I've done. (But hey, at least I'm looking right, right?) The part where I mentioned skeleton and the average height of Vikings, this is based of both completed adult skeletons, and a small colletion of children. Obviously, the results might have been different if the amount of children that died grew up and were, like 6 feet, but based of the collection for adult skeletons; this was the average height. And no, I don't know the exact number of skeletons that were used to base that number, but it is generally believed that humans were shorter in in the earlier centuries.

About the dagmal, hehe, yes it does sound like brunch!

And last, but not least. I don't think there are any major differences between Kitty Grass and Catnip, except for maybe a difference in the species. Nepeta Cataria is the scientific name for the plant, and common names are: Catnip, Catswort, and Catsmint. Kitty Grass was not listed, I think it might be a subtype; they both work the same way.

I hope that helps!

On with the show!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything from HTTYD. I don't own rights to the movie, or the book. I may someday own a Toothless plushy though! I saw a Zippleback (plushy) the other day at Wal-Mart… Toothless was all sold out (sob). I am NOT making any money on any of my stories…wish I was.

**Warnings: **No blood or anything this chapter. Just some weird chanting and sadness abounds!

**Rating: **Still T

**Shout Outs: **A shout out to my beta Tsuanyue, enjoy your vacation! And thank you to Slayn for the awesome work!

Chapter Four: Black Despair

Well, Hiccup's intention had been to march down to his father and tell him that he didn't care what the man did; he would not be a dragon slayer. He felt his heart crack a little further as he watched the vast man lean over to listen to Gobber, who was no doubt telling the leader of his son's "great achievement".

The lanky boy hung his head in sorrow and overwhelming shame when he saw the joy that broke out over his father's, normally, stony face. 'Why?' the teen felt tears prick in his eyes, 'Why can't you accept me?'

Hiccup shrank back like a shadow fleeing from the early rays of the morning sun. Shaking his head, reddish strands whipping his cheeks, the lanky teen began stalked off to the forest. Toothless would be looking forward to his breakfast. A strong-ish breeze blew past Hiccup, rustling his hair once again, the irritated boy spat a few strays from his mouth; maybe today would be a good day to try flying again.

---With Stoick---

'Terrible! Absolutely terrible!' That was the only though that Stoick could coherently make without feeling like tearing the rest of the mangled ship apart with his bare hands. How could they have thought that _that_ had been the dragons' nest?

There were many of them –damned dragons- there, and Stoick did _not_ think that they seemed like they were hiding from something and quite frankly he didn't care. It was a hard battle, all for nothing, and they had taken both casualties and damage. It disgusted the leader who was unused to anything failing, again, he painfully ignored that his biggest failure was gazing down at him from above on the wooden planking that led up to the village.

It wasn't the lad's fault he was so, so, urh _him_. Truly and honestly, Stoick thought it was from him allowing Vahallarama to coddle him. It was impossible though. From the instant she had placed the small infant in his arms that first time …he couldn't _not_ coddle the boy _himself_. Plagued with fears that the smaller, more frail boy would die before even reaching his teen years, Stoick took preemptive measures to keep the boy from harm; stopping just short of assigning actual bodyguards.

Perhaps, some might think it strange of such a rowdy, powerful Viking to go to such measures, but one could not understand Stoick's fear until they had a child of their own. Even then, some did not understand, but they wouldn't dare complain, he was the leader.

How could the red-haired man express why he felt how he did? It was his son! Despite their appearances, and beneath the facades of 'children can handle the mischief they get up to', Vikings were very protective of their families. Nowadays, Stoick could just gesture in his son's direction for his closer Vikings companions to nod their heads in understanding; Hiccup was Hiccup and that was enough explanation.

Stoick did not want to exile his own son! How could he ever even imagine living after such a thing? How could he face his dearly loved –and incredibly strong with vindictive overtones- with the knowledge he'd sent their only son off to exist by himself when the small teen managed to break bones tripping down stairs?

Off in his own world, the hulking man startled back into reality when he saw Gobber stomp, well limp, up to him. Raising a hand, Stoick gratefully clasped his oldest friends hand to be hauled up.

Gobber looked cheerful enough, "So, I trust you found the nest then, eh?"

Disgust welled up ugly and stomach-churning in Stoick, the man angrily stalking off toward the village, "Not even close." He answered the limping man behind him darkly.

The blond man shrugged his shoulders, still in good humor, "Ah, excellent."

Stoick was dreading asking, but he had to know, "I hope you had a little more success than me?"

Gobber hastily turned, hopping a few times on his good leg, before catching up to the other man, "Well, if by success you mean your parenting troubles are gone for, then yes, I did." The blond replied in a nonchalant manner.

Stoick felt his heart stutter for a moment, horror beginning to creep up from the faltering muscle to wash over his stony face. He stopped abruptly as a throng of his villagers ran up.

"Congratulations Stoick! Everyone is so excited!" A woman stopped in front of him, wringing her hands in glee, before prancing off.

"Out with the old and in with the new, haha!"

"No one will miss that old nuisance!"

"The village is throwing a party to celebrate!"

The bearded man's heart refused to continue properly, alternating between clenching up and going numb, "He's gone?" it was all he could bear to say.

Gobber, completely missing the expression and the tone of the question, looked thoughtful, "Hmm, yeah, now that you mention it, most afternoons. But who could blame him? The life of a celebrity, eh, he's lucky to make if through the village without being mobbed by his new fans."

Relief spread through the large man's body, only for his mind to follow suit of his heart and giving a brief moment of numbness, "_Hiccup?"_

Stoick was officially confused, what could Hiccup possible have fans over? Perhaps his baking skills _were_ amazing…

Gobber nodded merrily, "Who would have thought it? He seems to have a way with the beasts it seems. I hope you don't mind," the shorter man looked sheepish a moment, "I've been training him with the others for a week or so now."

Stoick felt his poor heart kick in to overdrive and nearly pound through its restricting ribcage. _Hiccup _was taking _dragon training_, this was beyond good news! The painful thoughts of having to exile the boy were banished with great joy.

"Not at all, this is the best possible news."

Giving a nod, the red-haired man straightened his shoulders from their haunch they'd been in for the last few days; Gobber had been right all these years, the boy just needed a push to get going.

----With Hiccup----

The russet-haired teen took deep breaths as he squirmed in the saddle, trying to find a comfortable position. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, "Okay buddy, let's try this again-"

Well, Hiccup was about to add "slowly", but the dragon was of a different mind today; actually all the time come to think of it. The ground was falling away rapidly as the dragon launched into the sky.

"_You worry too much human. I am a dragon, we are born to fly."_ Toothless ignored the fact that it took a few years for their wings to grow enough to support their weights –which grew quite a bit faster than the appendages did-

As the pair reached a comfortable altitude, Toothless opened his large, many segmented wings and glided, the glories feeling of being in the air, untied to the Earth roused his spirit. It put him in a gleeful mood, one that even seemed willing to put up with the inept –and in Toothless's opinion- incredibly slow boy.

Flying in a relatively straight forward fashion, with no shifting and no up's and down's, the boy pulled out a small parchment to read his previously noted foot positions. "Alright, easy now," he gazed down at the small paper clipped to the tiny saddle horn. "Okay, position… three? No, four."

Twitching his foot and listening to the responding click, Hiccup looked back to view the tail-fin and saw it was fully extended.

Toothless was less than impressed at how incredibly slow it was going and rolled his head to keep from flipping the boy off his back. His body was poised with irritation as his left wing angled down and they began to circle around.

Hiccup was on a plane of existence not known to mere mortals. He was. Riding. A. Dragon. The first person –he didn't care if there were other's darn it- to ever ride a dragon, a Night Fury at the very least.

Forget the Gods hating him, they must fucking _adore_ him. This feeling was one that could never be probably explained. It was the rush of salty wind –even this high- whipping his hair back, the misty feelings of passing through clouds.

_Clouds_, dammit! He was passing through clouds! Things children gazed up at and wondered if it was really possible for Valkyries to rest upon them when doing Odin's bidding. He was finding out that they weren't just solid white things floating about and felt like dandelion fluff, they were misty and cold and exhilaratingly moist.

The steady feeling of the up and down beats of Toothless's wings as they made their way along, the smoothness of the air; Odin, he could go on for ages…

Magical, powerful, unimaginablely wonderful; and still these couldn't come even _close_ to describing the real feeling.

Hiccup rocked back and forth gently with Toothless's motion as he followed the winds drafts. The boy looked back over his shoulder one last time, "Alright, it's go time!"

The teen raised himself up off the saddle, standing slightly in the stirrups and holding on for dear life as the dragon tipped downward, his stomach rising to his throat in a deliciously uncomfortable sensation(1).

They made good time; the pace was comfortably quick, but not speeding. The dragon began to level out again as they neared the surface of the sea, "Come on buddy!" Hiccup encouraged.

Toothless was in too good a mood to be upset by the human's words, he knew how to fly well enough without a back-riding flyer, the words were nice enough at the moment and he let it go. Gracefully, he tipped his wind down a little further and brushed the tip in the water, nearly sighing in pleasure at the rush of cool water splashing up his wing.

He leveled out again and noticed the impressive rock towers that stood up hundreds of feet from the surface. Ugh, stone and definitely not forgiving, the black beast narrowed his eyes. This human better have his act together if they were going to make it past the solid rocks.

Hiccup felt almost ethereal, like he was in a dream. Gliding along on a powerful dragon's back, stone pillars risen up on both sides, the sight of sea birds circling high above; was he really awake right now?

Then they were past the first two and in relatively open space, stone still climbing up toward the sky in odd places around them, "Yes, it worked!"

Toothless acknowledged it and began to pick up speed. As they approached more rocks at their level he instinctively began to turn, but his human extension failed to properly adjust the fin. Results? Not terrible, just one rather upset dragon as his body crashed into the unmoving rock. The black dragon mitigated the true extent of the crash by using his legs to continue their flight, but their pattern was thrown off.

Without the fin being moved into a new position, the next rock came of up fast from the unfortunate ricochet from the last. Hiccup futilely pulled up, panic setting in as the crashed into that pillar as well.

"Sorry! That was my fault!"

Good mood? Rapidly deteriorating; Toothless demonstrated this by glaring up and smacking the teen with one of his elegantly long ears. "Yeah, yeah. I got it!" The said boy griped.

"_Don't be upset with me, I'm the one with bruises. Not you, passenger!"_

"Position four, er, three." Hiccup muttered as he looked down to check on of his feet, the pair began to steadily rise again.

Much to the human's delight, Toothless noted.

The proud Night Fury wasn't exactly sure what prompted him to do it; perhaps it was the boy screaming in delight, "Whoooo! Yeah! Go baby!" or maybe it was the fervent and ecstatic feeling that rose in him, similar to the feeling of when he breathed his flames.

Whatever it was, the dragon climbed and climbed farther up into the sky at a dead vertical angle, "Ye-eh-es! Ooh! This is _amazing_!" The boy cheered as they went higher.

"-the wind in my-" said amazing wind ripped the fluttering parchment from its small clasp, "CHEAT SHEET!" Hiccup swiped at the twirling paper frantically. "Stooooop!"

Blinking, Toothless slowed to nearly nothing, the two hovering while he hooded his wings to cup the air, then gravity made itself known. Hiccup's body continued at the same speed they had been moving, the throng of leather that kept him attached slipping from the newly designed hook.

Screaming in terror, there was a strange moment when Hiccup fell in front of Toothless, who startled as he realized the human was now in front of him, his almost negligible weight gone from his back.

Frantically, the panicking dragon began to roar alongside the shrieking boy as they both fell, Toothless unable to properly right himself without the use of both fins.

The free fall was not how Hiccup expected falling –he'd didn't know why he ever thought of it- would be like. It wasn't just the same position the entire way down, the speed that they were falling at caused them to spin and flip awkwardly, mostly out of either's control.

Through both of their panic, Hiccup's brain kicked into self-preservation mode. In his head he could see how they were falling, a moment of clarity overcoming the fogginess of, "Oh, Odin, I'm gonna diiiiiie."

"Toothless, you kind of have to angle yourself toward me!" The boy tried to gesture with his arms.

The dragon attempted it, but after a few narrow misses from the wings the human scream, "Okay, no, no, no, no, come back down towards me- OW!"

With a painful smack from an out-of-control wing, Hiccup was sent flying, his descent slowed.

Now the boy was above the still rapidly descending dragon, the saddle inches from outstretched fingers; once, twice he missed before his grasping hands found one of the thick straps that ran parallel across the neck.

With great effort, he managed to hook himself back on just as the two went into a straight-out spinning nosedive.

Nearly tearing the sheet of parchment in half with gritted teeth, Hiccup moaned out a warning and pulled up as hard as he could.

It wasn't like it mattered, it was a reflex more than anything, but Toothless made a valiant effort and completely unfurled his wings out, trying to bank. The wing was so strong that it actually kept them upright, Toothless struggled to keep his eyes opened to slits as it stung them.

Over a small island with trees below, Hiccup tore the paper from his teeth in a panic and tried to make sense of the flapping paper; he glanced up and nearly leapt in sheer panic, a reflex that would have led to very bad consequences had he not looked. Stone loomed up in as the fog cleared and filled with terror the boy released the parchment and reacted from pure instinct.

His foot clicked from his shaking legs as they twitched with adrenaline that couldn't be used for anything useful, this was surprisingly the right position and the tail-fin clicked into the proper angle for Toothless to control the flight.

They dodged many close stone pillars, weaving back and forth like the strands of yarn at a master weavers loom. Hiccup's brain went blank, and nothing existed anymore, nothing except the steady, near silent click as his feet moved without his permission, clicking expertly into each proper position.

As exhilarating as it was, his face was sent in a grimace, tension singing up his muscles and tendons; Hiccup's gasp was lost to the snatching wind as they went into a well-executed roll.

Toothless came out of the roll, his body catching different drafts and he arched back and forth. The end of the rocks showed up ahead, and both man and beast felt relief combined with the mind-searing terror.

As Toothless winged back out of misty fog once more, his flight became steady over open ocean that sparked like millions of diamonds in the sunlight. Arching his back, Hiccup yelled a shout that started as a "yeah" and ended up becoming close to a roar like the one Toothless emitted.

High from adrenaline Toothless was now flying in more than just one sense of the word, and he released a blue fireball, he was too pent up and needed a physical form of release.

Hiccup winced, "Oh come on-" his words were cut off as they black dragon flew on, seemingly not noticing the boy's singed scent.

----On Island----

A slightly singed human leaned back against a jovial dragon's side; blinking as he came down from his mind-numbing shock. He turned slowly, as though he were underwater as Toothless made a hacking sound.

Toothless had decided that his –rather frail- human had been through enough today and out of the goodness of his heart, he hacked up a fish head, a portion that was plenty for such a small male human.

"Uh, no thanks… I'm good." His human raised the fish the teen had skewed on a wooden stick over a tiny fire.

"Suit yourself." The dragon said, brushing off the comment easily, high pitched squeaks caused one of his ears to stand on end.

Four small Terrors landed on the ground and Toothless felt his good mood disappear, irritation left in its place. A snarling growl sounded and the black dragon saw from his peripheral vision his small human grow nervous and look worriedly in his direction. For what his worry was over, Toothless didn't look to far into.

A reddish one stopped inches from his open maw, halting as a snap came for it from the irate Night Fury. Only for both of their attentions to fall to a green and yellow one that snatched the previously regurgitated fish head away. The red one snuck up to it, ready to lunge forward and snap it up, but the small green one growled –annoyingly Toothless thought- at its companion and breathed a long torrent of flame at it.

Still glaring intensely at the two bickering pair, Toothless felt almost amusement wash over him when he saw what appeared to be a fish floating away from his pile resting near large clawed paws.

Oh _no._ Not _his_ fish. With a growl, the larger dragon snapped forward and caught the head. After a very breath tug of war, the Night Fury twitched his head to whip the smaller one about; the Terror's hold coming away with only a mouthful of fin.

Toothless gulped it down in one fell swoop, not even noticing the flavor, he let out a sneering series of groans, _"Not so tough are you, you little Terror?"_

Glaring back, complete with narrowed eyes, the Terror let out a rumbling growl, _"Better Terror than stupid Fury. I show you!"_

The red-winged dragon pawed the ground and then rose up on hind legs, preparing to release a never-ending stream of fire.

Toothless looked unimpressed, _'It's almost too easy.'_ He thought to himself. Seconds before the small dragon released his flame, Toothless cut before the smaller male and breathed a tiny fireball, unable to close its mouth quickly enough, and the Terror swallowed it.

Hiccup couldn't squash the small smile that formed as he watched the exchange. The little dragon puffed up before landing flat on its face, releasing small squeaking hissing sounds, like firewood that was too wet being warmed up.

The poor little thing managed to climb shakily to its feet and stagger unsteadily from a triumphant Toothless. Hiccup felt exasperated at the large creature's pride over defeating such a smaller dragon, "Huh, not so fireproof on the inside, are you?" The boy felt sorry for the tormented beast and as it made to go past his feet, he removed his fish from the stick. "Here you go," he tossed the fish at the tiny beast, which jumped back and stared at the fish like it was a gift from Odin.

It swallowed it down in seconds, before turning to bob its head back and forth, staring at the human that had just fed it. He walked up to the human, chittering the whole while; they were adorably cute sounds. Hiccup settled back down to lean against Toothless's side, which shifted slightly, the dragon was still feeling triumphant. See, his body posture declared, the human liked the Night Fury better!

Ignoring the silently preening black dragon, the small dragon pattered up to the humans side and promptly curled up to sleep. Amused, and amazed, the human reached down to pet the almost sandpapery scales of the Terror. "Everything we know about you guys… is wrong…" He sounded sad at this.

The teens emerald eyes hardened, "I'll change it, I swear."

Toothless snorted, but curled up around the two nonetheless.

---Later That Evening---

An aching head was resting on green sleeved arms; the young man flicked his rough pencil up and waited for it to roll back down the slanted wood, before flicking it back up again. His mind was a storm of chaos, he felt like snakes were doing battle in his guts.

What on Earth would he tell his father? He knew the man would probably be in high spirits, Gobber wouldn't have wasted a moment telling his father about his "gift for defeating the beasts" or something like that.

The door opened abruptly to the study in the forge where Hiccup had been trying to form an answer to give his father.

"Dad!" The boy leapt from his seat like a boy possessed.

Not caring whether it was conspicuous or not, the boy began to gather the paper into a messy pile behind him, "Uh, Gobber's not here right now, so-"

The boy stopped as he watched his huge father trying to squeeze through the –in Hiccup's opinion- large door. When the large leader _did_ manage to get through, he fell unbalanced forward and corrected his helmet that had been knocked askew.

"I came to see you actually." The large man's voice was low and gloomy.

"Oh," more insane shuffling to get all the papers in a semblance of a pile, before he "casually" leaned with his hand bearing the weight, "really? That's nice Dad, but-"

"You've been keeping secrets son." The hulking man took another step forward.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Stoick leaned down close, "Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I know everything that goes on around this island."

'_Heknowsheknowsheknowsheknows.'_

In an attempt to keep his father from launching into face-melting tirade, the boy held up his hands, "Dad, I know you're angry. And I was going to tell you the second you were back, but-"

Hiccup was treated to a severe case of mood whiplash as his father burst out into deep, belly-shaking laughter.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be mad son? This is the best news!"

"Really," the teen paused, before sighing in sadness, "we aren't talking about the same things here, are we?"

Stoick pressed on, "Why didn't you tell me about your ability to bring dragons to their knees? Imagine how helpful that would be on future attacks!"

The man calmed slightly, his face turning more somber. "I- I, uh, brought you something."

Hiccup felt his curiosity peak, his father usually never brought him gifts, not any that weren't at least as tall or as heavy has Hiccup himself.

The older man seemed to be almost sheepish as he pulled out a helm from behind his back, "This is for you."

Hiccup felt whatever part of his heart that was still thumping wither up a little bit more, why couldn't he be more like other children? His father was here, presenting him a helmet, like any father did when their children passed dragon training. The red-haired boy felt his cheeks heat up and tears prick his eyes, his hands moved on their own accord to grasp the cool metal.

"Thanks Dad…" he murmured, his voice overcome by emotion.

"Your mother would have like for you to have it."

Hiccup held it even closer, his mother…?

"It was half her breast-plate you know," The tactless man reached up and tapped his own helm, "It- it keeps her close, you know?"

The boy recoiled his hand as though it were burned, _'Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.'_

Still, he set it gently onto the gently sloping desk and looked down at this feet, "Dad, there is something I need to talk to you about."

Stoick sat down on a stool and scooted close to his son, leaning it eagerly, they finally had something in common to talk about.

"Dad, this will be hard for you to hear, but you need to hear it."

Hiccup hesitated as he watched his father's face slightly darken, "Before you say anything, I think I've been given a sign from Odin to do it!"

Now, the icy eyes turned thoughtful; Odin was a God no one wanted mad. What could possibly be so important? The elder man's mind returned back to the subject they had spoken of before he left to that fake dragon's nest.

"Dad, I-I can't kill dragons," the boy brought up a hand quickly to still the inevitable outrage, but to hold it back a little longer. "I can't kill them, but I can take away their bloodthirstiness. I don't think they are bad."

Stoick didn't know what to think, but it certainly wasn't untrue, especially with all the eye witnesses. Stoick didn't know what he felt worse about, his only son still dead-fast against not wanting to be a true Viking, or the truest Viking of all, the god of all, Odin, influencing his boy.

"_NO!_ No! You will go and finish your training, and you will prove to this village you are _worth_ something." It wasn't full-blown hysteria, but it was the higher end of panic that parents felt when their children told them that their offspring was involved in something dangerous.

"Dad, please, let me prove it to you! Prove that this is real and there is something to it! Wouldn't it be better for the village to have dragons on our side, in case of wars?"

Hiccup was grasping at spider threads now, but it was vital his father at least _think_ about it, if he was thinking about it, then at least it didn't mean an outright no. He really had no blessing from Odin, outside that he hadn't been shot with a commanded lightning bolt from Thor for voicing such thoughts.

Stoick was torn, if he exiled his son, not only would it kill the leader, but it would be in direct defiance of Odin's wishes.

"Hiccup, all you have to do is kill one dragon, just one!" His voice turned hard, "Why is it so hard for you to listen to anything you're told?"

"…" Hiccup avoided his eyes, he knew his father's hopes were that he'd become a true Vikings, that he'd forget the "nonsense" he'd spoken before his father had left.

"Even one dragon is too many." Hiccup whispered quietly, "You could put a fallen dragon in front of me. A knife in my hand and you could even guide it to the dragon's neck; but my hand will not fall and I will not kill."

Stoick felt his heart just grow cold, and his eyes hardened. He wanted to rage, to scream, to give his son's head a good smack. He wanted to do so many things, even force his son to kill just as the boy had given an example of. Maybe he was just afraid? Afraid of what, the father didn't know, but he was willing to push his sons hands down himself, just to try and get his son to realize that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Even if his son did become a full-fledged Viking, he'd never allow the boy off on his own…_anywhere_. It would be so much easier, better. Didn't his son see that? He'd kill one dragon and complete his training, then he could go be whatever else he wanted around the village, but at least then, Stoick wouldn't have to banish his only son. It wasn't just the though of exiling and banishing, the red-haired man had no delusions that forcing Hiccup to live by himself would mean death for the boy. He wouldn't be ordering his banishment, he'd be ordering his death, what kind of father could say that wouldn't bother them with nightmares later?

On the other hand… Odin. The bearded man winced. Odin was not forgiving if his will was disobeyed. For the most part, he did not give too many orders that could not be met, but this, this took the whole pie. If he disobeyed, he would never have a place in Valhalla, a fate he could live with… if only it meant is son wouldn't die from being ate by some beast. It'd be nice if they could all end up in Helgafjell together, he and Valhallarama could stroll together once more, drink with friends, and have there son nearby as he enjoyed the festivals.

Stoick pulled at one of his twisted red beard-braids carefully, weighing each decision. "I- I will think about it Hiccup, tomorrow after dragon training, I will ask the Elder to meditate." The man paused his throat closing up on itself, "But Hiccup, if she tells me that it is necessary to exile you, I m-m-must." That last word had been the hardest for Stoick to ever utter. It was really the only thing he could do, if in the end he had… had to really exile him… he'd make sure the boy never wanted for anything. 'So why', Stoick wondered, 'Why does it feel like something is broken?'

Hiccup bowed his head, "I can only ask for you to think about it, thank you… Father."

Stoick nodded stiffly, "I'll be leaving now, I'm sure you'll be very busy tomorrow."

Hiccup nodded miserably, "Yes, I will be."

----Last Battle, Before Nightmare----

Hiccup wasn't sure what his plan would be for proving to his father, he supposed he could always do, what he'd always done and just sooth the dragon down. The only problem being that the others –mainly Astrid- would want to kill him for taking the top Dragon Trainee position.

His best option was to just let it all run its course, whether or not he managed to do anything here, his father was a man of his word and he would most definitely talk to the Elder. They might not look it, but most of the older Vikings were incredibly superstitious.

He turned on his heel and began to stalk down to where he was supposed to show up for training. Sighing, he tapped his fingers to his palms as he walked across the long bridge to where the arena was located.

The eccentric teen's plan was simple. He'd show up, hide in the background somewhere, and avoid all confrontation. Hiccup nodded absently, he wouldn't move at all. He would stand in one spot and ignore all impulses; it shouldn't be so very difficult. All he had to do was do nothing at all! If this wasn't meant to be, Odin would intervene.

Fishlegs was looking anxiously around near the caged arena, looking visibly tense. As the hazel-eyed boy caught sight of Hiccup, his tension drained away, "You came!"

Hiccup gave a tiny smile that didn't reach his bright green eyes, unwilling to ruin the boy's good mood by being an ass to the tubby teen. The gate was drawn up half-way and with a bend at his waist the heir slipped underneath, flinching at the sudden enthusiastic yells from his peers.

Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Ruffnut began to babble all at once, snippets of, "We're going to smash that Gronckle today!" and "Now that you're here, you can show us your moves!"

Hiccup restrained himself from following his strange and sudden desire to slap his palm to his face, they were excited, and the shy boy was happy for his peers. Happy that they felt none of his gut-wrenching indecision over whether or not he would be a true Vikings. Would he or wouldn't he? The russet haired teen was of sound mind that he would most definitely _not_, but damn, he needn't ruin _their_ –he cringed- fun.

"Y-yeah, whoo, can't wait for the action." Was Hiccup's lackluster reply, giving a weak fist pump to the sky.

Then Hiccup made the mistake of looking for Astrid –his normal teenage reflex to look for the beautiful girl- and flinched at the venom in her glare. Oh yes, Astrid was not a happy teenage girl, her spotlight had been stolen.

Perhaps it sounded petty, but it was very disorienting for the blonde. All her life she had been raised to be the best, expectations were set and she took pleasure in each time her father nodded to her. Then would proceed to explain in detail her flips and rolls; her father quizzing her on each position.

It was something that bonded her closer to the man, who for the most part, was like every other male in the village who thought it was best to avoid female children. They were not tough like boy children, and it was more accepting to level praise on your male child.

She knew her father was on the quest to the dragon's nest and at least he wasn't here to shake his head in disappointment and lament for not having his first-born a male. The blue-eyed girl did her best to stop that feeling, trying to be the toughest and the best; to be usurped by a scrawny twig of a boy. It was a shame she couldn't bear.

So she glared at the boy, tossing him the most vehement look she could muster. It was nice to see his neutral face descend into one of almost physical pain. She would not lose to him, how could she possibly ever face her father if she lost to a boy that shied away from a _look_?

Apparently, Astrid had never been on the receiving end of such a malevolent glance. Hiccup shuffled his feet and wished the ground would swallow him up, it would be so much easier… but how would Toothless survive? His tail-fin would not work if there wasn't someone to operate it. Other than the dragon though, everyone's life would get infinitely better.

Gobber showed up, his large form limping in, "Now then little scared kitties, you'll all be facing the Gronckle today. I believe you've all met him; he's your wonderful friend that nearly ate you? Yeah?"

He watched as the teens wince slightly in remembrance of the mentioned "meeting". "Today is the round for most of you, but the best is this! The one, who is the victor today, will have the honor of slaying their first dragon in front of the entire village!"

For the teens beside Hiccup, this was the dream they all _salivated_ over. There was not a Viking-in-training –before Hiccup- that didn't all imagine themselves standing over a mangled and bloody Nightmare, crowing their triumph the cheering crowd. The boy fiddled with his mother's, er, his new helmet…

Hiccup felt his body give a small tremble. "So…" he risked a glance at Astrid's feet; the only neutral place to look in her direction.

She ignored him and brushed past without so much as a glance. Hiccup took a deep breath and raised a hand to scratch at his scalp. He was such a moron. The russet-haired boy was pulled from his self-destructive hate as he heard the squeal of gears and chain link.

He froze in terror as he watched the gate caging the Gronckle shriek open. The teen gasped and went cold as its ridiculously small wings hummed as they flapped to keep such an enormous body airborne. It really wasn't the place, and Hiccup berated his terrified brain for coming up with such silly thoughts at a time like this, but to the Viking teen, the dragon looked like a very ugly bumblebee.

A very large bumblebee…with very large jaws, and wasn't there one other-

Hiccup let out a very _manly_ scream and leapt like a cat whose tail was near the hooves of a horse. Oh yeah, Hiccup, a fire-breathing bumblebee!

The blast unbalanced the fleeing teen and the boy scrambled back upright, no thoughts other than running from a very angry dragon. He leapt behind a wooden block, made to hide behind. Panting for a second he realized he had just collapsed next to the very irate Astrid. "Astrid-"

"_Stay out of my way! I'm _winning_ this."_ she hissed in a manner that made Hiccup's skin crawl.

Hiccup gulped, "Please, by all means."

Astrid snarled at him, overlooking his meek tone to take his words as a means of a challenge.

'Okay Astrid, you can do this. You. Can. Do. This!" The teenage girl's mind shrieked at her.

She lunged out from behind the palisade and charged at the dragon, only to be knocked away by a tail. The girl arched and managed to flip neatly to avoid hurting herself. She sneered when she saw the block burned away and Hiccup scrambling away in terror. She lifted her axe and made to charge forward.

Hiccup didn't mean to. No, he _really_ didn't mean to! He had been content just hiding, hunkered down and avoiding the rampaging dragon. Then the wood just _had_ to go and burn away, leaving him in plain sight.

It was all instinct, he just reacted bringing up one hand to halt the dragon, who was not used to seeing a Viking without a weapon and not screaming at it(2). The second the beast was hovering, Hiccup's hand shot out and began to scratch frantically at the Gronckle, stepping out of the way as it collapsed in bliss.

Now that the Gronckle was on the ground, he looked straight ahead to see a truly stunned Astrid, whose face looked like she's just swallowed a stinging jellyfish…whole.

She gave him such a vicious glare, Hiccup was willing at that moment to fight the Gronckle all over again, and this time let the beast eat him. He shrugged and threw up his hands, what was he supposed to do?

Gobber stepped out into the arena, cheering erupted as the crowd realized the match was over and now it was time for the elder to choose, to choose who would be the one to fight the Nightmare tomorrow.

The man stalked over to the two, and placed a huge hand on each shoulder. Hiccup was glad for a buffer between him and the seething blonde, fighting girl. The crowd hushed in excitement and Gobber put his hook hand up over Astrid's head, every eye turned to the withered and gnarled elder who shook her head slowly at Gobber's gesture.

Gobber, who had _seen_ what Hiccup was capable of, was still in shock and reeling at his put his hooked appendage over Hiccup's head. The bent woman nodded her head, smiling a little and raising one crooked, arthritic finger.

Pandemonium of joy, shock, and over all relief flooded through the crowd. The thought alone that Hiccup, _Hiccup_, was the best Dragon Trainee, the witnesses nodded and those just back were flabbergasted.

Through it all, the Elder kept her head cocked, and her eyes trained on the boy trying to shrink into the ground. She raised both hands, and her apprentices obediently started barking out orders for the crowds to shut their mouths.

Everyone fell silent once more, and she pointed that same finger and crooked it this time, her voice soft and like autumn leaves scratching against the mountains. "You must come with me child."

There were no and, if, or buts. The Elder had just requested a meeting with him and there was no refusing it, so Hiccup could do nothing but swallow his fears and trot out of the arena to meet up with the twisted elderly woman.

He followed the woman, who moved surprisingly fast for her age, to the other end of the village. The walk was uneventful; there was no talking among her acolytes, and Hiccup was not about to instigate any.

He was led not into a house, but into the wooden temple dedicated to the rituals for the Gods and Goddesses.

The lanky boy paused outside the heavy doors of the temple that were pulled open for the elder to pass through. Hiccup knew he had _no_ business here, this was where only those that could speak to-

Ohhhhh, right, he could "speak" to Odin. That didn't make the boy any less suspicious of walking through the threshold, surely the Gods would be able to spot his lie, and they would strike him down just for entering such a holy place? Suspicious? Oh yes, the entire island lived and breathed spirits and magic, after all, there were so many different potions one could make…

The Elder pointed for him to sit down on a furred mat settled on the floor. Hiccup dropped without so much as a thought, his reverence and respect for the woman overpowering other unimportant things, like wondering about what was to become of him. Obviously, Odin _did_ want him here. He wasn't dead yet…ugh.

The two acolytes spun about them, nearly dancing, but at the same time not moving at all. They wore material that Hiccup was not entirely unfamiliar with, linen. It was not the most popular choice in clothing, it being so very cold here for the most of the time, but now that it was nearing summer, the women had gone nearly nuts with their wardrobes.

The Elder made a soft sound in the back of her throat and nodded ever so slightly to a boiling pot over near the hearth. One of the young women, a pale, black-haired slip of thing seemed to float over reach in with crude wooden tongs to fish out a tiny looking mushroom. It was soggy and nearly colorless, but Hiccup could still see the red spots, and he recoiled.

The seer's brew, it was called. The meticulous care and secrecy in making such a poisonous plant was kept at only a need-to-know basis. The only person that needed to know was the woman that accepted a tiny portion of the mushroom. She ate it down, and then sat, the tiny woman in a meditative state. The acolytes brought over what looked like a cup full of something grey…ash, Hiccup realized. It was a charcoal tonic, used to negate poison. Of course you couldn't just shove pure charcoal down someone's throat; the preparation for the charcoal was probably a secret as well.

Then the two priestesses sat down on either side of the Elder and began to vocalize in soft harmonious wordless-chants. It was so peaceful and soul-moving, that Hiccup nearly leapt from the room when the Elder's eyes snapped open, a fierce light glowing in their depths, her pupils dilated fully.

Hiccup wanted to utter a cry, she was clearly communing with Odin, and he had _no_ business at all being here. He wanted to move, to leave, to flee, but he was rooted like a plant to its soil, unable to so much as make a sound.

She threw away her staff and began to dance about in violent shaky movements, her old bones creaking and she began to chant wildly in a language that Hiccup's head didn't know, but his heart could understand.

The grey hair woman danced and danced and danced, evoking the power that be to assist her, to see into Hiccup's heart and to deem whether or not Odin did want this gift to be used by his most favorite village.

For an hour Hiccup sat there, entranced by the nimbleness the Elder showed, the way her voice lilted up and down, speaking so many wonderful things, but not a single word passed those dry, cracked lips.

As soon as an incense stick, one that had been inconspicuously resting in the corner, burned away to nothing the two young women jumped up, they're arms twisting out to wrap around the Elder and guide the thrashing woman gently to the ground. While the black haired one climbed atop the small woman, the other rushed over and picked up a small wooden cup before returning, this was not the activated charcoal.

Hiccup watched numbly as the two women pried the clenched mouth shut and put a smooth and sanded chunk of wood between the teeth before pulling back to avoid getting their fingers being bitten off.

A wooden spoon was produced and a strangely colored green mash was spoon fed into her mouth, a little watered was poured, and nimble fingers worked the throat. This was all done efficiently and quickly. In the flurry the red-haired boy finally realized the scent; the past was mashed cucumber leaves.

Strange, the plant leaves were not usually used for food, and while not poisonous, to make a true meal you'd have to eat quite a bit of them; which brought out their hidden medicinal use. The cucumber leaves contained emetic properties, something which induced vomiting when too much of it was eaten. It made sense; Hiccup realized that if they were going to expel the poisonous mushroom, they'd have to make the Elder vomit.

Sure enough, within in a few minutes, the woman was beginning to writhe, expertly, the two women rolled her over and braced her. The red head grabbed a nearby basket and between the two of them managed to get the woman to vomit into the basket.

It was a grueling process, but after all of that, then they picked up the grey sludgy water and began to poor it down her throat. The two women were careful not to choke the poor woman, and then they laid her down reverently on thick quilts and furs that were nearby.

The black haired one walked up to Hiccup and kneeled near him, "The Elder will be recovering for an hour or so. When she awakens, she will tell your father all that she talked about with the gods, please stay here, we will return."

And the two left in a whirl of incense and swishing linen, no doubt to get Hiccup's said father. He would not be allowed this far into the holy building, more likely he would be waiting out in the very front near the alters. Hiccup watched the sleeping woman with a deep sadness resting over his heart.

-----Teaser-----

~ "It is against the law for a Viking not to complete training and he must be banished, yes?"

"Yes." Hiccup felt the world drop out from beneath his feet.

"But," the woman gave a mysterious smile, "the law never says for how long they must be gone."~

------I hope you all enjoyed!

For all of you who think I wrote Astrid a little to intense. Please go back and watch that small montage (where there's the music and all his conquering of the dragons) and then, go and watch the last match before she's seen Toothless. Yeah, that will pretty much sum it up. Don't worry she'll come around…eventually hehe.

1) Personally, whenever I'm on a rollercoaster and I get that stomach in my throat feeling, I adore it. It's such a weird sensation that even though it's so damned uncomfortable, it's actually pleasant if you go on enough rides, hehe.

2) Hehe, this is my own guilty little throw in from the books. In the books, the dragons are trained by being "yelled at".


	5. Hard For Me to Say I'm Sorry

Yeah, I know, it's been a year. Sorry, got busy and this story requires a lot of attention so I never started the chapter until I had a good amount of time to devote to it. Enjoy!

Warnings: None

Rating: T

A/N: If you all would like to read a chapter in which you get to see the whole conversation between the elder and Odin, then let me know and I'll write a flashback for it. I wasn't sure if anyone would be all that interested so it'll be taken to vote… or something.

Also: I used the word fanciful in the chapter. Yes, I'm aware that it means strange or bizarre, but that's the point since I can easily imagine special and unique things you wouldn't find elsewhere in an Elder's house, especially if she is the healer as well.

About Stoick, yes, he is the leader. But I wanted to show in this chapter, that with such superstitions and religious people, that even the head of a tribe can feel small and powerless next to those they consider to be holy or in touch with the gods. His characterization is just an impression I felt about him, but in the book he does exile his son along with all the other kids that are working with their dragons. Plus, the Vikings were very reverent to their gods and had a ton of superstitions as well as stories that they believed to be true.

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Chapter 5 - Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry

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Stoick would not admit to being nervous under pain of death. He might have considered uttering those words if a person walked up to him with a sure location of the dragon's nest, but it was a very weak "maybe" at best.

When he was called by the Elder's two acolytes, he was filled with dread. It was a very similar feeling when he had been called to the healer's cabin and told that he would have to say goodbye to his glorious wife. Odin never left his favorites on Earth for long.

This feeling, the feeling of having the very ground beneath his boots disappear and his body hurtle thousands of feet down, it made him feel weak… and he hated feeling weak. Stoick knew that whatever decision the Elder had, it would have to be obeyed. That was the way if had always been done since the very first Viking tribe; the way it would always be.

There was celebration all over and Stoick did his best not to seethe at his people. He thought that there should not be mugs clinking in salutes and enthusiastic cheering. Yes, it wasn't every year that dragon training rolled around, not every year that not a single student died, and definitely not every year that the absolute worst Viking in the history of all Vikinghood had won over his better peers to be in an event that was considered a great honor.

Stoick had not joined in with the others in their joyful chanting and rambling half-sung half-hummed songs. They had their right to rejoice, because they didn't know what the leader knew.

He followed the two slender women and hated himself with every step. She would surely say that Hiccup needed to be exiled. Stoick felt his heart skip a beat as he wondered, 'What if the gods demand more? What if she says he needs to be put to death?'

It would be the father's responsibility to appease the village and the gods by making sure the offender was dealt with. If the person was an adult with no parents, then it fell to the leader.

It wasn't long before he was standing in front of a hut, the Elder's hut. He felt his tension ease involuntarily, for at least he would not be near where the gyoja conducted their rituals. He instantly berated himself, what kind of father was he? That he would agree to kill or banish his only son if this fragile woman demanded it?

Did it make him a bad father? A horrible person? Family was everything, children were important, they were the tribe's future, but tradition was important too. Stoick shook his head, at least Hiccup, if he was commanded to kill h-his son, would die by his hands and not in the mouth of a dragon. At least his immortal soul would be returned to the gods and have a better life there. Stoick wanted to beat his fist against his head, no! No, it did not make him feel better! How would he be able to face his wife if he exiled their only son or put him to death? How would he be able to face Hiccup, who would be there as well? Best to go die quietly from poison and end up with Hel than to see either of them with such guilt inside.

Stoick sighed as he walked up the well-trodden dirt path to the elder's house. An herb garden unique to her hut was off to the left and even farther around the house in the shade were even more plants, those with mysterious natures and a hatred for strong sunlight.

The hut was not elegant, was not endowed with jewels or finery or anything to make it stand out. In fact, in comparison to other houses nearby, her hut was incredibly standard and with just the basics necessary to call it a house.

This was not an accident, any villager would give up their house if she needed it, but it was because the Elder herself had wanted it as such. The basics were all she needed, her focus was often turned inward and too much fanciful clutter was annoying.

The huge man hesitated on the doorstep, it was not open, not that it should be considering the temperature, it would be against customs to just walk inside. He was the leader of the village, one of the strongest Vikings alive, but he was bred to be a Viking and froze like a frightened deer at her hut's oaken door; he would not enter without her permission.

A thin and high voice met his ears, and Stoic shuddered again. She was a human -he thought- who was older than anyone else he'd ever known, she had not raised her voice and yet he heard it even through an oak door, it filled him with even more apprehension.

He pushed open the door with a soft grunt and barely squeezed through the threshold.

"I see we don't call you Stoick the Vast for nothing, eh?"

Stoick flushed, feeling like a child again at the quiet chortles coming from the Elder. He didn't know her real name and no one else did either. Names held power, he didn't receive his adult name until he was out of his young years and he worried every now and again if it was a strong enough name. After all, he didn't want to fall weak to a spell or a curse, which is why an Elder upon completing their training would give up their name and take a standard one, used by all holy women. When they became, well, old and wise enough to be called an Elder, they gave up that name to be known as just the Elder, so no one could ever use their real name against them.

She sat neatly on a simple cushion covered with the fur from a bear. She seemed enormous to Stoick, bigger than him despite not even coming up to his waist. It was not the physical presence he felt, but her spiritual presence that seemed to press him down into submission.

"My Elder." He intoned with as much respect he could at that moment filled with such feelings of rebellion warring inside his heart. Like always, he felt as though her ancient eyes looked past his flesh and blood and straight into his soul.

"Be at peace Stoick. You must be quiet in your heart to hear the truth of what I speak."

She turned and gestured with a bony hand to the steaming tea she had near her, "Would you like some tea?"

Stoick fought down his urge to bristle, because after all, he wasn't exactly in the mood for tea and would actually much rather something that would get him drunk; quickly.

Her eyes peered at him and not at him, closely and not closely all at the same time. "We may plant a seed, Stoick, but no person can control the way it will grow."

The red-haired man blinked at the suddenness of the sentence and then blinked again at the strangeness of it.

She continued nonplussed, "If one were to bend the sapling while it is still flexible, we may be able to control the shape, but we can not control how many branches it will ever have, only what it may have already. Save of breaking them off or how many leaves each will grow, save ripping them off, we can never control the tree to stop growing these limbs. We can only destroy them, cover it up. Even if we do this, we are still not in control, for ripping off leaves and breaking off limbs does not erase what was there, nor the fact that the tree still grew it. We can tell the tree, "You may only grow eight branches, so you can be like every other tree we have, but that will never stop the limbs from growing, we would have to keep trimming.

'Hiccup,' he thought in a foggy and dazed manner, 'she's speaking about Hiccup being different…right?'

The old woman reached out a hand and gestured to the fire, trying a more literal analogy, "Our Hiccup is also like a fire, he can be necessary for life in this village, but without being properly channeled he can cause ruin just as easily."

Stoick snorted and felt a twinge of embarrassment because the sound seemed so out of place in the stillness of the hut. He knew all about the disasters the Hiccup could wreak upon the village. Then he shuddered because she said the words 'is also'. Could she perhaps really read minds?

"Elder, please, have you communed with the gods?"

The woman turned her head to the side, her braid falling over one narrow stick-thin shoulder. "I have asked the gods for their guidance in this matter. Odin knows everyone of us and Hiccup is no exception."

She paused again, this time to place one wrinkled hand over the other, "Stoick, you know what you must do."

It was agony, sheer agony to hear those words. In that moment, Stoick would rather face down every Nightmare on the planet, be burned to a husk and scattered to the four winds then he would to have ever hear her utter such words.

"Stoick."

Her voice was soft still, but it overwhelmed all his mind until it seemed she was the only thing he could focus on.

"Stoick, he must be exiled yes, but there is no law in how long."

Now everything just drained away, he felt empty and hollow, 'What nonsense is this? Everyone knows that exile is forever, there is no coming back.'

But even as he though such a thing, he paused, actually there never had been anyone that had said they couldn't come back was there? No one had ever tried to come back and never had a sentence of exile come with a time limit.

Then again, never had there been anyone like Hiccup so maybe it was fitting that this would be a first.

"Elder, how long should his e-exile be? To appease the gods?" Stoick ignored his stutter, for once his posturing had been forgotten.

The woman smiled that secret smile, the smile that parents gave to their children when they knew something they didn't want you to know yet.

"Dear Stoick, why would you think it is the gods that need appeasement?"

He stiffened automatically, "Why would we even have a sentence of exile if it were not to please the gods?"

"Men have their own need for order, just as the gods. We pay our gods respect, love them, and fear them. We listen to them and we obey them, but we were never to exist without laws of our own. Without laws, both for those holy and for those of man, we would be living in a world of chaos. Exile is a punishment set by both gods and man, the infraction of the law in question is all that ever changes.

She studied him, like a hawk studies a smaller bird upon the ground, "Do you think that the gods could ever make a mistake?"

Stoick shifted and gazed around him, waiting for her to be struck dead for surely that was a blasphemy, but she smiled on.

"No?"

"I hear a question, not an answer, but I will tell you. Yes, even the gods make mistakes, but it is not our place to deem what is a mistake and what isn't. The god in question is the one that terms what is a mistake to them and what is not, many of our teaching and stories mention instances where a god realizes that they have made a mistake."

"So, Hiccup is a mistake, then?" Stoick clenched his fist involuntarily even as he asked.

"Don't be so quick to presume, lad."

Dear Odin, it'd been so long since someone had the courage or the years to call him lad.

"There is nothing in this world that Odin does not see. He knows who Hiccup is and the gods were not mistaken in how they made him. He is different, just as every human is meant to be, but he _is_ special, the gods have something in mind for him. Perhaps taming dragons is what they had in mind, it is not my place nor is it in my power to know. I know this, however, this should not be looked at as a punishment to us or to Hiccup, he is a gift that no other tribe can claim to have."

Stoick breathed, his heart still twisted in knots and so many things rushed through his mind. That the gods meant for this to happen, that Hiccup is so different on purpose, that Stoick hadn't failed as a parent to raise him right.

"Stoick, you are a good man, a wonderful father, and a just leader. I have lived through leaders and experienced many things, but you have been the best I've seen. Our tribe has been able to do more than just exist, it has flourished, but there is more room to grow and you must never forget that we will never know what the gods truly think and wish.

"Of course Elder. Thank you, for your words and for your judgment." Stoick truly meant it too, without such a good Elder and wise woman to defer to, he might have made the decision without even seeing all possible angles.

"You may go know Stoick, but please, do come back for some tea in the future, you're such good company."

Stoick nodded several times, "Of course, please rest well."

Her eyes followed him out of the room and she laughed a little in joy at seeing such amazing things even now in her old age.

'Oh Stoick, you think that you have never seen someone like Hiccup before, or that none like him have ever existed, but you always forget yourself. I have watched you grow and I remember several instances where you remind me strongly of Hiccup now. You have always found such intriguing new ideas to solve our tribe's problems, even coming to me before making your decision. He is your son, not that there was any doubt.'

"Attend me, please, I wish to return to Hiccup now. Poor lad's probably beside himself with worry."

Her two apprentices returned to her side, looking at her with fondness and love. She returned their regard, smiling with benevolence garnered from years of patience.

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- With Hiccup

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'It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.' Hiccup repeated it like a prayer mentally, over and over again. So what, if he'd been here for several hours instead of the original one he was told? So what, that the tenebrous shadows were playing tricks with his mind in this large space? So what, if he was going out of his head in fear and apprehension, and what was that sound just now?

He whirled around and held his breath in terror, this place did things to your mind, of that he was certain. Why had they left him here to wait? Why had they left him here for so long?

No news was good news…right? Oh Odin, did the Elder know he wasn't going to fight that dragon tomorrow? 'Of course she knows Hiccup, is there anything she didn't know?' Odin's breath, was he going to die? Maybe he could just pack up and sneak away, fly away on Toothless to some nice island where there wasn't constant cold and fighting. Find a place where people were friendly and dedicated to not killing everything with a hammer or a sword.

Who was he kidding? He may be skittish but he was not going to abandon his father to such shame. He'd already shamed the man enough hadn't he? It wasn't like he ever asked for any of this!

"Urgh!"

With a grunt of frustration, Hiccup lurched to his feet and paced. 'Why hasn't she come back?'

He fisted his hands in his russet hair and tugged, "Why can't I just be normal?" He yelled out, a little from anger and a little from sadness. It wasn't like he could just say it to himself and go on with his day. The instant they put a dragon in front of him, he wouldn't kill it and no matter what he said or they said, that was just a fact.

The idea of killing Toothless made his heart feel cold, there was no way he could kill another dragon ever again.

The doors behind him swung open so quickly that he jumped, turning around quickly to see the Elder returning.

He walked swiftly over to her and went to his knees so he was eye level with her, so desperate and afraid that he just wanted to see one person look at him with kindness.

She knew what he was looking for and gave him a smile of acceptance and care. "Hiccup, young one," she reached out and place a hand upon his shoulder, "stand up, you are stronger then you know and this will not kill you."

For a moment Hiccup thought that she was speaking of standing up that wouldn't kill him, but realized a second later that she meant something else.

A little piece of his soul seemed to curl up on itself.

"I am exiled, aren't I?"

Her smile fell away and she now look appropriately serious, "Not yet, not until we've had time for the ritual, but yes."

Strangely, Hiccup felt a sensation of relief, though he could never tell anyone why, he had no reason to be relieved.

He was to be banished, exiled from his home to live by himself. No comfort, no family, no loved ones. He would loose his name, he would be stripped from his title as heir, and he would be cast out.

All his life he'd been trained to be a Viking, what else did he know how to do? How would he survive?

He remembered Toothless and felt his thoughts settle a little, he wouldn't be completely alone. Even though Toothless was not as close as they could be, the dragon liked him well enough to protect him, well enough to travel with him. He would be okay.

Hiccup felt his eyebrows furrow in thought, was this what the elder meant? That this decision would not kill him? Hiccup straightened his spine, "Thank you Elder, for all that you've done for me."

She reached out a hand, silent for all the time she'd watched him filter through his thoughts and feelings, but now she had one more thing she wanted to tell him. For she would not be seeing him again until the ceremony and even longer after that.

"Hiccup, brilliant boy, you have so much in store for you and the potential to do great things. Grow well and reach for the heavens, because you have the ability to do what many of us no longer can."

Hiccup wanted to ask out loud, but instead pleaded for the answer with his eyes.

She smiled again, "You have the ability to adapt and to dream, then to make those dreams a reality. Never loose that," she reached out and patted his hand, "now go see your father, he will do well to see you."

"Yes, Elder."

And he left, walking out of the building no longer apprehensive or fearful, his back straight. Her words gave him strength, enough to go and return to the village to face his father, the man that would have to exile his own son.

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- At Home

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Stoick leaned over the hearth, his arm bracing his body on the mantle over the fire and he stared deeply into the flames. His mind was calm, the flames had a soothing effect. He had water already on to boil for tea and he was preparing himself to see his son.

Odin, what would he say to him? He wanted to say how much he loved him, that he wanted to hug him and hide him away. To tell Hiccup that he wasn't a screw-up and that he was his son no matter what.

Was this a test, then? A test to see if he would obey? Stoick turned away from the fire and crossed over to the small table, trailing fingers across the sanded top until he found his seat.

He know stared down at his huge hands, these hands had held Hiccup when he was just a baby. He'd always been such a small boy, but he and his wife had so much hope for him. 'Vahallarama, what would you have me do?'

Well, that was actually quite easy to imagine, she'd hit him over the head with the hilt of her battle axe, kick him in the ass for good measure and tell him to figure out a way to not exile her boy.

The door clicked open, Stoick looked up from his musings to see his son standing there and it hit home how much he was going to lose. Whether or not it was for a year or for life, it wouldn't be any easier.

"Hey dad."

Stoick felt his heart clench, his boy still called him dad, still loved him. Despite knowing what he was going to do, the ruling he'd have to make. There was no way Hiccup didn't know of his impending sentence, his face was so unusually serious.

The scrawny boy crossed the room and sat in the chair a scant foot away from his father, "Dad, it's okay."

Odin, it was like everyone today knew the perfect way to make him cry. His eyes stung from the sense of relief he felt, "Hiccup, son, do you understand why?"

He watched as Hiccup closed his eyes, "Yeah, you need to do it," he smiled a little, I was thinking, I'm serious about becoming a bread-making Viking, no other place has a Viking that's willing to bake bread for a living. Think of it! Or maybe ice sculpting, huh huh? So much ice out here, I could probably make a killing at birthday parties."

Stoick gave a bark of laughter, then sobered a little, "Hiccup, did the Elder tell you how long you'll be gone for?"

His son gave him a confused look, "Dad, did you get hit in the head? Exile is for life, you know, you banish me and I never return? That's kind of the whole point of it, you know? Or else we'd all be trying to get banished, it's not supposed to be like, 'hey we're banishing you for two months, don't forget to pack your bathing suit and pick me up a souvenir."

Stoick smiled, "I've talked to the Elder and made my decision, you're going to be banished to that island I told you about for a year."

"A year?"

"Yeah, a year."

Hiccup made a face, "Dad, I was getting really good at making ice swans, what will I do with that talent, now?"

Stoick was about to answer him, when he caught the small grin on his son's face, oh he was joking…

Thank Odin.

Stoick laughed a little, then looked at his son with a sigh, "Lad, I want you to know that I'm I'm s-," he sighed, why was it so hard to say that he was sorry? Why would such a thing be so hard?

Hiccup grinned a little, "It's alright Dad, really, I understand."

See, and then he went and did something like that, no, Hiccup needed to hear it, to know it. "Hiccup, I'm sorry I have to do this."

Hiccup looked a little sad at his words, but a light of determination was lurking in his green eyes, "I know you wouldn't do it if you didn't have to Dad. I'm not going to kill a dragon and complete my training and that means I won't become a full-fledged Viking. This is necessary, if you say that I can come back in a year, then I'll come back." He smiled, one that was honest, but strained.

'I hope so, son, I really do.'

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And scene!

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Hope you all enjoyed it. I had a lot of these I wanted to impress in this chapter:

1. Hiccup is special and needs to grow into his talent and discover himself more

2. While Stoick is powerful and a leader, there are things even he needs help with

3. The Elder if a compilation of medicine women and wise people through out real life and media. And she's not psychic but when you get that old, you get good at guessing

4. Hiccup just THINKS he will never kill another dragon. He still has to grow and come to the conviction that _some_ dragons do really need to be slain. He will still meet the Queen dragon in the future.

5.I really wanted this to be a thoughtful and poignant chapter, one that made people think and make their own decision. Is Stoick a bad father? Does his emotions ring true with his character? Does Hiccup seem strong in the movies and in the books to reflect him in this chapter?

If there are any mistakes, please let me know, this is unbeta'd.

Thanks for reading!


	6. Safe and Sound

Yup, I am alive. And I updated, sorry for taking forever! Enjoy this chapter, hopefully the next update won't be a year from now. I hope you guys like the chapter, I almost didn't post it because I don't think it's very good, but hopefully you guys like it anyway.

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Chapter Six: Safe and Sound

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When looking back in hindsight over the hardest things Hiccup has had to stand in his short life, losing his mother came in first. There was no getting over that kind of hurt, only learning how to move on, but having to say goodbye to his father was a close second. Even though he knew that his exile would be brief, a year thank Odin, it still felt like he was leaving, that he was going to lose his only home and was never to return.

They had sat together, as father and son the night before the announcement and ceremony his banishment would commence. A quiet reflection where both basked in the other's presence for what could be the last time; though it wasn't spoken out loud a lot could go wrong when living on your own even if for only a year. Hiccup was more confident than his father; he at least had Toothless who wouldn't leave him during his exile.

And how strange was it, to think of his looming exile and not feel apprehension? He was nervous, sure, who wouldn't be nervous about being kicked out of your clan without so much as a by-your-leave for a year on some Gods forsaken island, but the sentence didn't feel quite so oppressive anymore and this quieted his aching heart.

Stoick however, was much more of a wreck, though Hiccup was to kind to not point it out. He knew how keenly his father felt about this whole debacle, that the elder man thought it his sole fault and that he was to blame, when Hiccup assured his father it most certainly wasn't. His father had done is very best to give Hiccup every chance to set aside his… himness and become the dragon warrior that the rest of the island was known for. But Hiccup couldn't, he really just couldn't. He didn't know if his father could even understand how much it almost physically hurt to try and kill a dragon that didn't deserve it, dragons that only reacted to the aggression that was shown. It was a cycle that he hoped to break someday, and even if he couldn't break it, he could at least prove his conviction by being the first to throw down his sword.

Sitting there with his arms wrapped around his knees and listening to the crackle pop of warm fire, Hiccup felt almost relaxed. His father sat in his chair not too far away, smoking a pipe and gazing at the hearth, his eyes far away and world-weary. Hiccup felt horrible for being the reason his father had such an expression on his face.

He scooted closer to the chair until his side pressed against his father's lower legs. It was a pose he had not taken for many years, not since before his mother had passed. Leaning against his father brought back smoky memories of nights filled with quiet contentment with his father twining his thick fingers through his hair while his mother hummed or sang while she polished her and her husband's armor, or mended clothes. The feeling almost brought tears to his eyes, he had managed to keep them from falling until he hear his father sigh and felt the familiar sweep of fingers on his scalp.

His father did not look down on him when a few tears escaped. His tears were not tears at the unfairness of his leaving, but tears for his father, tears that his father would not or could not cry. Tears of time lost and tears of time that would be lost. A whole year he would not see his son, a whole year the son would not see his father. A whole year he would be gone from the village, a whole year his father would miss seeing his son grow.

And yet, after the few tears had been shed and while his father quietly strokes his head, Hiccup felt safer than he had in years. He drank in the comfort, because he didn't know when he would feel it again.

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. Ritual

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The Elder had spent the whole day preparing the ritual. It was simple enough, she had set bones, asked the Gods for their wisdom, prepared the ceremonial knife and rope. Her heart ached for having to recite the chant for banishment, and to one so young, but it was necessary and she would see her duty done.

She had lived many years, seen many generations rise and fall. Sometimes she felt as old as the ocean, though she knew with her mind that she was not, her heart felt as old as the stone that the houses of the village rested upon.

This day, villagers were expecting a good show, a show about a boy becoming a man and a function warrior of the tribe. And boy, were they ready to see that useless boy Hiccup finally live up to his expected title as the Heir of the tribe. But even as the tribe gathered eagerly for a fight, what they saw instead chilled them.

The Elder saw their gaping mouths, how their eyes had flown open wide in terror and fear. To see their diminutive Elder in her ceremonial bear and wolf furs, pale wrinkled skin streaked with red paint, and nothing else stole their breath like a thief in the night. She was the one that was there to help bring children into the world, but she was also there to help take their spirits out of it.

Smiles faded, the somber atmosphere was heavy and it raised the hair at the back of necks. Several people looked from one to another, wondering who it was that had died, or what kind of situation demanded such dressings.

She stood taller than her height should be in the arena, as every eye fell upon her, every voice quieted by the power they could feel she possessed; the elderly woman felt her age. She felt it in her bones, the way a tree could feel termites biting within. She would be passing on soon, perhaps not this year, perhaps not the next, but she knew it would be soon. And Gods she was ready, long ago, 70 years or more, she had given up her name. The thought that soon she could rest with her family brought her peace and strength. Strength to continue what was expected of her.

Still, she waited. It was not time for the ritual. When the sun was high at noon, it would be time. She was still waiting for Stoick and Hiccup to show, she couldn't even begrudge them being late if they were, it was not something she looked forward to either.

It would be noon soon enough though, and she nodded to her acolytes nearby. Two of them brought out bizarre looking flutes and began to play. The melody and pitch unnerved those watching, the high pitched notes fell softly upon their ears and dredged up emotions that were kept locked tight within their hearts. It was sad, expressive, and sounded like a song of mourning. Two more acolytes brought out drums, but the rhythm they beat was even softer than the flutes, an accent to the flutes, rising with the lilting music and not overpowering it.

The Elder began to sway, gently like the ocean tide. Her arms held low, but slowly they began to move as well. She chanted, the language speaking to their hearts, though their minds could not comprehend what she was saying. It was the language of the Gods and the spectators held their breaths as they watched the woman slowly began to dance.

Her voice was high and reedy, almost a perfect match for the flutes, and many found themselves mesmerized, unable to tear their gazes away.

So engaged in watching her dance, they did not see their Chief approach, nor did they see his heir trailing behind him. They did not see the last hug between the two, nor did they see the tender look that the father bestowed his son.

As Stoick approached the gate into the arena, he paused, unsure if he could really go through with this. His son would be exiled, unable to receive any help from him and his kin. Unable to interact with the tribe, he would be essentially dead to them. Usually exile was for forever, but not this time. Was he still expected to mourn as though he had lost a child? Odin, it would bury him, he thought, to have to go through mourning again.

Hiccup, for his part, seemed to be rather ambivalent to it all. He was thankful that his father would not be forced to kill him. Thankful that his father had made sure one of the smaller boats would bear him safely to the island. Thankful beyond measure, that he would have his faithful friend Toothless at his side. He had slipped away at dawn to see the dragon, and he was better for it. Toothless couldn't understand why they were leaving, but in his own way had made it known that he wouldn't let the hapless human go alone.

Now eyes were catching sight and even if they didn't know exactly _what_ was going on, if it involved Hiccup, it couldn't mean anything good. Perhaps the Elder was performing his death rites for him before he fought the Nightmare? That seemed likely, as it seemed a miracle that the boy was even the one picked to fight the Nightmare.

The Elder slowed her dancing until she stopped gracefully, it was a marvel to Hiccup that she could even move in such a way for as gnarled as her body appeared to be, and he flushed when he saw her wink at him and give him a kind smile.

He braced himself as he turned to look out at the crowd, now the whole village had turned out as whisper and rumors sparked and traveled about. Curious eyes roamed over the three of them before Stoick cleared his throat and the whole attendance fell quiet.

His eyes swept over the group, meeting some eyes before he turned his eyes heavenward, '_please,' _he begged to the Gods, _'please let this be the right thing to do. Though I don't deserve him, please keep my boy safe, he is special.'_

"My kith and kin, we are gathered here today for a very specific reason."

Eager bodies leaned forward, anxious for the fight to be underway.

"For the last two days, the Elder has been in and out of communion with the Gods and has discovered that Hiccup has a gift, one that is powerful and good, but terrible at the same time."

This cause a few tongues to wag, eyebrows to lift as people turned to one another with questioning eyes only to be answered with shrugs. What on Earth did their leader mean?

"Over the past few weeks, Hiccup has shown incredible skills with dragons," at this the crowd cheered, elbowing one another, perhaps this was just for dramatic effect? A way to wind them up and give them a good show.

And then the hammer dropped.

"My son has informed me that in exchange for this gift, he cannot kill dragons."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow at his father, because that certainly wasn't how he remembered explaining it and he was pretty sure that wasn't how their conversation had gone. He hadn't even mentioned bread-making!

The whispers had turned into roars and confusion reigned for a good few minutes while Stoick gathered the courage and strength to continue.

"Enough!" Though he only raised his voice a little, everyone fell silent; some mouths still hung open in shock.

"My son has a gift, given to him by the gods, but he has refused to kill the Nightmare and complete his training. The punishment for that is exile," their strong leader's voice cracked and suddenly he didn't seem so very stoic at all.

Silence, even more deafening than the roars from minutes before swallowed them all, disbelief and shock warring on the faces of those that looked on. Hiccup could see the group he had been in dragon training with, most especially Astrid and his cousin Snotlout, their eyes so wide that he was worried they would fall from their sockets.

Stoick took a deep breath and pushed forward, because if he didn't finish it now, then he wasn't sure he could finish at all.

"Therefore, I will be exiling Hiccup," The whole tribe was in an uproar again, but it was unclear over what. Some were mad that he wasn't being killed for not wanting to kill dragons. Some were upset that if it was gift, why weren't they keeping him around to help with dragons, maybe lead them to where they lived. While yet even more others were just shocked because the last exile had been ages ago.

Stoick held up one hand, "I have decided he will be exiled for a year!"

More silence, before a small whisper of, "Can he do that?"

Followed by, "Well, he's the Chief isn't he?"

"Is it a punishment if he can just come back?"

"Why is he being punished at all?"

"Don't people who are exiled die?"

"There will be silence!" This came from the Elder and every tongue fell silent, even breathing halted in the presence of her ire.

"I have communed and spoken with the Gods. They have decided his sentence and it is not the place of men to pass further judgment then what the leader has seen fit to do. I agree with Stoick the Vast's decision, that is all that needs to be said."

Not one word was spoken in the wake of her speech.

She nodded, "Bring forth the rope and the dagger."

Hiccup did not tremble at her words, which surprised even himself, because let's be honest, he really wasn't the epitome of brave and courageous. He did not tremble as the thick ropes bound his wrists, nor did he flinch as she began to chant again.

Some spectators trembled in their seats, in horror and in fear, others watched with impassive expressions, neither happy nor upset by the proceedings.

"Hiccup," the Elder began, her ancient hands pressing over his bindings, "You have broken the law and have been judged, your punishment it one year in exile. You may say one last thing before I complete the ceremony."

'_What do I say? What could I possibly say? Oh, hey, yeah so I'm not really special turns out dragons just like belly rubs? Or, Yeah so I'll be going now, see you all in a year, want me to pick you up some herbs while I'm out?"_

He opened his mouth and all that came out was, "I'm sorry."

She nodded to him, "These ropes represent your ties to us. With this blessed dagger, I sever your bonds to this tribe. If you are still alive one year from this day, you may return with this rope and be accepted back. No further punishments will incur from this particular infraction, you will cleansed when you are welcomed back. Now go with the Gods."

She brought the dagger down swiftly and the ropes snapped apart easily. The snap felt horribly real to his body, as though she had reached into him and broken the little pieces of him that connected him to this place. It was all in his mind, maybe, he was mostly sure that it was all in his mind.

He couldn't bear not to look at his father one last time, even as women began to scream and cry in grief. Not because they particularly cared for Hiccup, but because that was what was done when a child died.

Dead.

Was he really dead? He still felt alive; he still felt the rush of air in his lungs. His father met his eyes one last time, and Hiccup turned and fled, toward the forest where he had left Toothless, and from there to the boat that was moored down near the most northern beach.

Away from his home, away from his life, Hiccup ran until his very breath burned. But that was okay, it was proof he was alive. He focused on the sound of his feet hitting the ground, the rhythm of his pulse as he raced away from his past life. It wasn't a punishment, his father had said, but why did it feel like he was fleeing from one?

His father watched him run away, fists clenching in tandem with his heart. "Be safe, Vahallarama, protect our boy," he whispered to the wind. He thought he'd come to terms with this, but all he felt now was that he'd still some how had failed, both his wife and his son.

How would he fill the next year without him? To wake up and not hear him. To eat dinner by himself in a lonely house, empty save for him?

Gobber walked slowly up to his friend. There really wasn't anything that could be said, but he rested his good hand on Stoick's shoulder, "He's a strong lad Stoick..."

Gods he hoped strength would be enough.

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Hiccup ran for minutes, ran until he could see Toothless up ahead roused by the sound of his ragged breathing and worry shone in the vivid green irises as the dragon sized him up. Hiccup collapsed in relief against the warm hide, tears falling and all he could do for several minutes was cling to his dragon's side.

Toothless's eyes gleamed in the gloom of the forest, his wing unfurling to wrap around his human, _"There, there, you will never be alone. I'll be here."_

And maybe it was crazy, but he couldn't imagine leaving this human behind. Perhaps if his tail had been whole, he would have been long gone before he'd even made contact with the human, but what could have been had no bearing on what was now. What was happening now was that the human he'd grown to care for was hurting, not from any physical wounds, but from emotional ones, ones that could not be seen with eyes, but could be felt with hearts.

Those humans, they were humans that he still believed could not be changed. Perhaps it was only by chance that he had found the only human in the world that cared enough, that could try to understand what dragons were really like. He could have done wonders for that pathetic village, and they had thrown him out.

His human had tried to help him understand, that his father did not want him to leave, that it was only a short time he'd be sent away, but that made little sense to Toothless. It sounded as though Hiccup's father had a great deal of power and if he didn't want to do something, he shouldn't. Hiccup had tried to make him understand that it wasn't so simple, but while Toothless was intelligent in many ways, he could not overcome a life of doing mostly what he wanted when he wanted, to understand that Stoick had duties to his people and not just to himself. Though, over the past few days, the idea was beginning to become more clear to the dragon, for he found himself doing plenty that he didn't want to do, it was only for a small pale human that he did them.

Reguardless, dragons were not so incredibly fickle. Hiccup would be protected and cared for. He would not starve, nor would he be without warmth. He couldn't understand why Hiccup would want to even return to the people that had just banished him, but if that was what the human whelp wanted, than Toothless would oblige, the Sky only knew why.

"_Come with me, they will never hurt you again." _At least not if Toothless had anything to do with it.

Nudging the human carefully, he managed to turn Hiccup toward the beach where the boy had stashed supplies (Gobber hadn't known exactly what he'd been making new daggers for but had done it without question) and his tail fin. With Hiccup in the lead, Toothless turned to follow, pausing only briefly to look around warily before he slipped away, blending in with the shadows of the woods.

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End of Chapter.

Okay so yeah, you guys waited for a year and this was the best I could crank out. I hope it was cool enough and slightly worth the wait. I know Toothless didn't appear much in this, but he will in the future chapters. I'll do my best to get the next part out. I don't want Hiccup to come off as too much of a crybaby here, but I don't think a few tears after being kicked out of your home is too much. I'd like to hear opinions about where I should go from here, would you guys prefer a time skip of a few months, or would you rather have another chapter of him settling in and then a time skip? Let me know! As usual, this chapter is Unbeta'ed and I would appreciate if people would point out any obvious mistakes that I missed. Thank you so much for your continued patience.


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